


Shake the Heavens

by Ad_Astra



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gods AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Astra/pseuds/Ad_Astra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, even gods need to make sacrifices. Sometimes, miracles can be created by imperfect beings. </p><p>Always, there is a choice. </p><p>~~</p><p>A HaruMako + Rin mythos, where Haruka is the god of the ocean, Rin is the god of death, and Makoto is the mortal living an anomalous existence between their realms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Wanted to See Your Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellorinchansan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hellorinchansan).



> Haru self-identifies as Haruka here, because there are no gender nuances when it comes to names in this universe. Title of the story came from the one of the most memorable quotes of the PSX JRPG Xenogears: “Stand Tall and Shake the Heavens.”
> 
> Lastly, many thanks to [ Sospi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/satinstatic) for looking over this fic and cheering me on through the writing process- without her tireless support and encouragement, I would’ve taken much much longer.

_Nanase Haruka spends his favourite days submerged in water. He loves all bodies of water, fresh or salt, natural or man-made. He loves the rain that falls from the sky and the springs that gush from the earth. He loves lakes and their placid surfaces. He loves waterfalls and the graceful arc the water makes as it drops from great heights. Most of all, he loves the ocean, with its endless depths, and the way it disappears over the horizon, as if falling off the edge of the earth to entirely different continents beyond._

_His own existence feels peculiar to him; he breathes air and walks on land, yet he feels most comfortable surrounded by water. Sometimes, he feels like he doesn’t belong in this world, that he used to be somewhere else, breathing brine and water instead of dust and air._

_He’s never feared the ocean, for it is a haven to him. Whenever he spends time in the ocean, it almost feels as if the water is alive with him, gently welcoming him into its amorphous arms. He can spend hours soaking in it, uncaring of wrinkled fingers or pruny toes.  Even when the waves get rough, or the tides rise, he remains at ease._

  _Once, during a stormy afternoon, he watched the waves grow high, as thunder rolled from the heavens, lightning illuminating the world in pure white for countless disjointed split seconds. People had run into their homes, terrified, but Haru stood still, watching, acknowledging the ocean’s power but not fearing it._

  _Haru knows how to swim. In fact, Haru cannot remember a time when he didn’t know how to. His parents say he learned when he was a baby, and that he took to water like a fish. No lessons needed, he moved in the water like he was born in it._

  _He is five years old when his parents take him to a pool. He doesn’t like it at first; the water looks artificial and the smell, clinical. But water is water, so he dives in. His parents, confident in his skills, leave him alone to mingle with other grown-ups, and Haru starts to swim to his heart’s content._

  _A few hours later, he hears the whistle marking the closing of the pool. He finishes his last lap and reaches the deep end, frowning at how fast time seems to pass. He hasn’t had enough of swimming, not yet._

  _A shadow falls over him and he looks up. There’s a boy holding out a hand to him. He has messy brown hair, green downward sloping eyes, a sunny smile and a kind, soft face. The boy bends down, offering his hand._

_"The pool is closing,” he reminds Haru, smiling still._

_Haru does not need help getting out of the pool, but he takes the boy’s hand all the same._

_The moment their hands touch, he remembers. They aren’t memories, not quite, more like images and sound, juxtaposed into this boy’s smile.  He remembers green, the colour of shallow sea water under the midday sun. He remembers the feeling of soaring underwater, hurtling past channels, overcoming waves, traveling entire expanses of the ocean. He remembers beauty and light, remembers the taste of something other than saltwater in his mouth, remembers warmth spreading throughout the skin on his bones. He remembers the sound of laughter, a voice rising like bubbles._

_He remembers that same voice saying: “I will find you, beyond the sky that separates us.”_

* 

Once upon a time when the world was young, many gods existed across the earth as rulers of their own dominions. There was the golden-haired god of the day, whose smile was as bright as the sun he lit up in his sky, whose laughter nourished the earth, promoting growth on all forms of life.  There was the god of night, who ruled the moon and stars, whose mysterious image inspired human poets to write sonnets about beauty, darkness, and love that blossomed beneath his pale cold light. There was the god of death, whose scythe was as sharp as his teeth, who ended the cycles of all forms of life, taking the souls of humans and bringing them to their final resting place. There was the goddess of fate, who tracked and observed the paths that humans tread, who was sister to the god of death, for fate and death were often intertwined.

And then there was the god of the ocean, ruler of three fourths of the earth and creatures abundant.

His name was Haruka.

Haruka was a mysterious god, who kept mostly to himself, perfectly content with spending his time in the water. He was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful gods in existence: slender of build, with his upper half in the likeness of a human, tapering to a magnificent tail, with scales seemingly made of the finest crystals, translucent coloured in different shades of blue. Each of these scales sparkled with life, for they each represented a creature from the ocean’s god’s domain. This was how Haruka intimately knew the way the tiniest krill met their doom through the blue whale’s massive jaws, or how the dolphins tittered and revelled in their little intelligent games.

It was said that anyone who watched him swim would be mesmerized by his beauty and perfection. But that claim was never proven, for never had any surface dweller been blessed enough to see the ocean god in his true form. Haruka preferred to swim beneath the water, though it must be said that his favourite creatures were all air-breathers, the dolphin family in particular. He sometimes indulged them by taking their form and breaking the surface on occasion, to feel sunlight on his skin. This was how many humans saw him, but never knew him.

One day, while swimming with the dolphin pod, he saw a human boy watching them. He had seen humans venture on wooden boats across his waters, but he had never met one so _young_. Curious, he took a good long look at this young boy, whose entire expression was alight in wonder.

He had sandy brown hair, and a kind, open face. But what Haruka especially noticed were his eyes, which were as green as shallow water under the midday sun, and radiated the same warmth.

The dolphins jumped and played in the water, performing tricks for their captivated audience of one, basking in his attention. The boy squealed and clapped his hands, his pure simple happiness making him shine like a beacon. The other humans on the ship paid him no mind, leaving him alone in his delight.

Too often, Haruka had heard the other humans spin tales of the terrible dangers of the deep, of creatures that would drag humans down to feast on their flesh, and could not help feeling resentful of their ignorance. His creatures cared little about humans, and rightfully so, for humans had always been so quick to judge things they had no knowledge of. Haruka had no need for them.

But for this human boy, Haruka decided to make an exception.

No other human looked at his ocean and creatures with such adoration, and it was because of this that Haruka longed to see that smile again and again. Throughout the course of the boy’s travels, he learned that his name was Makoto, and that he was the eldest son in a family of five. His father was a merchant, which was why the family travelled frequently across the ocean for trade.

Every year, the boy made his journey across the waters, and every year, Haruka waited for him.

Every year, Haruka showed up to soothe the boy’s fears, which the elder humans poisoned his mind with. The ocean god enchanted the water to become illuminated when the boy set his sights on it, opening up a vast world of colours and creatures. Only Makoto could see them, and Haruka preferred to keep it that way, for he was a protective god, and would not trust his domain to the eyes of those who only saw it for its danger.

Every year, he succeeded. The boy smiled and laughed, clapped and pointed, infected Haruka with his happiness.

Eventually, the boy grew up to become a young man, his body getting broader, stronger, his features becoming more chiselled, though his gentle expression stayed the same. His eyes were still Haruka’s favourite shade of green, and his smile, eternally enamoured with the world, had not lost its luster.

“Hello,” Makoto said in his human tongue, smiling when Haruka leapt out of the water to feel his touch. “It’s you again. Did you miss me?”

  _It pleases me to see you_ , Haruka greeted back, with the dolphin’s language of clicks and whistles.

Makoto’s smile brightened, as if he understood.  Haruka would like to believe that he did. This human was special, and it almost felt like Haruka was _meant_ to meet him.

 _My human_ , Haruka thought, and liked the sound of it.

~~~  


But one day, there came a storm.

It came unexpectedly like most storms did, with powerful winds and torrential downpours that left a trail of destruction in its wake.

It happened then, that Makoto’s vessel was in that very same trail.

After twelve years of watching Makoto, Haruka could point him out easily, even amidst a cacophony of debris and other dying humans. Within seconds, he had already found Makoto spiralling towards the ocean floor, dragged down by an iron pole, his eyes closed. Without conscious thought, Haruka swam towards him, and released him from his bonds, before bringing him towards the nearest beach, which was more than a hundred miles away from the site of the wreck.

Haruka laid him across the sand, well away from the incoming tide. Makoto was cold and unconscious, his breathing frighteningly weak. With a wave of his hand, Haruka siphoned the salt water drowning his human lungs, pushing life back into his body.

“You have to live,” he murmured, as he traced Makoto’s blue-ish lips with his fingers. “There is so much more I have to show you.”

Makoto didn’t stir, but he slowly started breathing normally, air rushing back to his lungs, and Haruka knew then that he was saved.

Haruka’s tail thrummed, informing him that the sharks had begun feasting, which subsequently brought about the presence of another god in his territory. Taking one last look at the human he saved, Haruka dived back into the waters, determined to return as soon as he could.

But when he came back, barely an hour later, Makoto was already gone.

 

~~~

For four years, Haruka saw no hide nor hair of his human. His dominion only covered the oceans and the seas, and he did not have the capacity to venture into the land. For four years, he sent out his creatures to watch out for any sign of Makoto, but they all came empty handed. It was almost as if he vanished from the earth without a trace.

He did not believe for a second that Makoto had died. He did not know how, but he knew Makoto was still out there, somewhere. There were ways to check— he could seek the god of death’s counsel to know for certain. But he didn't, for to ask him would mean that he was acknowledging Makoto’s death as a possibility, and Haruka did not believe it for a single moment.

Finally, one morning, with the sun rising halfway up the horizon, bathing the sea in a warm orange glow, Haruka saw him again, at a beach from an entirely different continent, standing just shy of the shoreline, watching the tide come in. There was fear in his eyes, and at the same time, a longing Haruka couldn’t miss, as if the sight of the ocean both tormented him and beckoned to him. He looked like he had been standing there for a very long time.

He took one step forward, then seemed to think better of it, and abruptly turned around again, walking back towards the town.

Haruka, who waited four years to find him again, called out:

" _Makoto.”_

It was but a whisper, the ocean god not used to the human tongue, but it was enough, the name carried across the wind. Makoto froze, and he turned around, bewildered, looking for the source of the voice.

Haruka showed him then.

It was not forbidden to manifest in front of creatures outside one’s jurisdiction, but it was unheard of in the human realm. Still, Haruka knew this was the best way to catch Makoto’s attention and keep it. He lost his human once; he would not lose him again. Slowly, he rose from the ocean and showed Makoto his true form, rivulets of water gliding down his slim torso, the morning sunbeams bouncing off his skin in a way that made Haruka look like he was adorned with liquid crystal, complementing the blue glow of his scales.

Makoto stared at him, his jaw dropping. “You are….”

“I am Haruka, the god of the ocean,” Haruka spoke softly.

“Haruka,” Makoto breathed.

Haruka decided he liked the way his name sounded in Makoto’s voice and ventured closer.  “You have not visited me for quite some time.”

Makoto looked confused. “Visited you? But this is the first time I…” His eyes widened, as realization dawned on him. “The dolphin in the ocean. It was you?”

“Yes.”

Makoto’s face broke out into the smile Haruka longed to see for four years. “I always knew there was something strange about you. You acted differently from the other dolphins, like you recognized me, and understood what I was saying.” Then, as if coming to his senses, Makoto’s hands flew to his mouth and he immediately dropped to his knees, knocking his forehead on the ground. “I’m so sorry for speaking so casually. Forgive my insolence, ocean god.”

Haruka never understood the concept of deference— none of his creatures paid him such useless posturing, and he expected none from anyone else. “Rise,” he commanded. “That will not be necessary. You will address me by my name, and nothing else. Is that understood?”

“I understand… Ha… Haruka,” said Makoto, with a bit of uncertainty. He bit his lip and tried again, this time with more conviction, the syllables of his name rolling seamlessly from his tongue. “Haruka.” 

“Good,” Haruka said, and moved closer, taking note of the way Makoto’s breath hitched at his nearness. “Do you still fear the ocean, Makoto?”

Makoto remained silent for a while, before he lowered his eyes. “… Yes,” he whispered, suddenly looking small and afraid, like a child.

Haruka nodded. He expected as much. “Why?”

Makoto bowed his head.  “I… I lost my family to the ocean.”

“To the storm,” Haruka corrected. “That was not my doing.” He wanted to make Makoto understand that.

“I never blamed you or anyone,” Makoto said hurriedly. He bit his lip and twisted his hands in his lap. “I have made peace with their deaths.” He looked past Haru, at an undefinable point in the horizon, his face suddenly full of sorrow. “But each time I look at the ocean, I remember, and the fear comes back. I wish it wouldn’t. But I can’t help it.”

“I see.”

Makoto’s shoulders tensed, as if awaiting punishment, but all Haruka did was move even closer, the fine tips of his hair almost brushing against Makoto’s temple “Would you like me to remove that fear?”

Makoto looked startled. “I… what?”

“The ocean is beautiful. You who have only seen the surface cannot even begin to imagine what wonders it has, the colours it possesses, the creatures that dwell in it,” Haruka explained, and reached up to touch Makoto’s cheek. “I would like you to see it.”

Makoto didn’t shy away from his touch. “How?”

“I’ll take you with me. To the ocean.”

“But… I’m a human. I can’t breathe underwater.”

Haruka tilted his head. “And I am the ocean god. That will not be a problem.”

Makoto had the grace to look abashed at his presumption. “… Of course… I didn’t mean—”

 “—Do you trust me?” Haruka interrupted, as he lifted Makoto’s chin with his fingers, so he had no choice but to look Haruka in the eye.

Makoto reached up and touched Haruka’s hand, almost as if he's trying to verify its existence . “Yes,” he answered softly after a few moments. “Yes I do.”

Pleased with his response, Haruka reached down and held Makoto’s hand. “Then come with me.”

Makoto only hesitated for the briefest of moments, before he walked forward, taking his first step into the ocean, after so many years. Haruka coaxed him along, taking his time, soothing Makoto’s fears, the same way he did when Makoto was a child so many years ago.

When they got to chest-deep waters, Makoto seized up briefly, fear creeping into his eyes once again.

“Do not look at the water. Look only at me,” Haruka commanded, staring deep into Makoto’s eyes, willing the fear away.

Makoto gulped and nodded. Keeping his eyes trained on Haruka, he walked further and further away from the shoreline until the water reached his neck, until Makoto had to tread water to keep afloat.

Haruka paused, and reached up again, cradling the back of Makoto’s neck with his palm. “Are you ready?”

This time, Makoto didn’t hesitate, and nodded. Satisfied, Haruka leaned forward, and slotted his mouth against Makoto’s before pulling him under.

Makoto’s gaze never wavered, resolute, allowing Haruka to grant him breath, as they sank deeper and deeper into the ocean.  When Haruka pulled away, Makoto’s hands came up to grasp his neck reflexively, before he noticed that he wasn’t running out of air.

“I’m not drowning,” he said in wonder and looked up at the meters of water above him, the ocean surface looking like a blurry piece of sky, the sun a shapeless, shimmering topaz amidst the blue. 

“You can breathe and talk here like you can on land,” said Haruka, still not letting go of Makoto’s hand. “Now come.”

Makoto squeezed Haru’s hand and they sunk deeper and deeper.  His legs didn’t afford him the same mobility as Haruka, but Haruka didn’t seem to mind, content in their leisurely descent.

The shadow of a great white shark passed over them, and Makoto looked up at it, finding its mouth still bloody from a recent kill. Makoto clung tighter to Haruka, fearful once again.

“You are with me,” Haruka assured him, and touched a scale on his tail. The shark swam away, as it remembered that it had to be somewhere else. “There is nothing to fear. No creature will harm you as long as I am with you.”

Makoto looked back at him, smiling tremulously. “Yes. I trust you.”

Before long, they reached Haruka’s palace beneath the ocean. It was magnificent, a towering structure of pearl and coral, painted in colours that not even humans had discovered yet.  Haruka was proud of his palace, for it was the safest place in the ocean, and he built it himself, with his own two hands. He knew every detail, every crevice, every bit of magic that gave it shape and form, and the way the water moved within its walls like they had a life of their own. “This is but one of the many parts of the ocean I want to show you,” Haruka said, amused at Makoto’s slack-jawed expression, as he turned this way and that, trying to take in everything at once. “We shall explore my palace in greater detail once I’ve shown you the rest of my domain.”

Makoto turned towards him, smiling so brightly, he looked sunlit from within. “I’d like that very much.”

Haruka studied Makoto’s human form, frowning slightly at how it would not fare well for long travel in the water. “How would you like to explore it?”

“I like it like this. Hand in hand with you,” Makoto replied quickly, then turned his head away, his cheeks colouring.

“Then that is what we will do,” Haruka promised. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned five massive swordfish to him, some of the fastest swimmers in the ocean, to serve as transport. He fashioned a sea carriage made of translucent sea shells and mother of pearl, with soft sea sponges lining the seat.

“I suppose this will do?” he asked, as he presented it to Makoto. “We’ll go faster, and you can still hold my hand.”

Makoto laughed, the sound of it filling the water with its richness, and nodded. “Yes,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Haruka granted him a rare smile and took his hand, guiding him towards their travelling vessel.  “Then let’s go.”

And thus they began their journey.

 

~tbc~


	2. Fated

There was a place that was separate from the realm of humans and the upper planes. It was a place that existed in its own time, in its own space, free of earthly influence, but dealt with all affairs concerning the most controversial creatures on earth: humans. It was a place filled with mirrors, hallways that seemed to stretch forever. These mirrored hallways converged into a central atrium, where a giant kiln was located, tirelessly producing new glass for new mirrors, using the shards of old shattered ones.

This was the realm of Gou, goddess of fate. She often shared her realm with her brother, Rin, the god of death. Should any entity other than its inhabitants chance upon these mirrors, they’d see nothing but their own reflection. But for the goddess and her brother, they were not mirrors, but windows into every human life.

It must be said that even as the goddess of fate, Gou did not decide the fate of humans— she only made sure they ran their proper course. Each mirror started off whole and unblemished, and grew cracks as a person encountered decisions in their lives, each forked crack surrounding a shard with a different outcome. For each decision made, the cracks multiplied, the shards getting smaller and smaller, until the whole mirror finally shattered, denoting the end of the human’s life. Its pieces would be scattered into the forever burning kiln, to be remade into another human’s fate.

Whenever mirrors shattered, Rin would already be there, reaping the soul for transport to their intended planes in the afterlife. So it would happen like this: Gou would create mirrors which shone and cracked and broke, and Rin would be there at the end of it all, to account for each soul. Such was the cycle of human life, and it had always been the way of things.

But four years ago, something changed.

Four years ago, a mirror on the verge of shattering, hardened, and turned opaque, and Rin lost a soul for the first time in his existence. A boy, on the cusp of manhood, was supposed to have died in the ocean, with the rest of his family and the ship’s crew of seventy two. But Rin couldn’t find him no matter how far he searched. The ship was in the middle of the ocean, several hundred miles from the nearest land, making survival an impossibility. It was almost as if he disappeared from the earth without a trace. 

The mirror that showed his fate lost its transparency and reflective surface, but did not break, which meant that the soul was still out there, and had run past its course. Without the mirror’s aid, Gou could not watch him and Rin could not find him.

Four years, that soul escaped him, and four years, that mirror stayed opaque, mocking Rin with each day he had to see it.

But now…

“He’s back,” Gou announced quietly, holding the renegade mirror in her hands.

The mirror lost its cracks during its stagnant years, and now shone as if the person who owned it was reborn. Once more, it reflected the human it belonged to. Makoto, that was his name. His mirror showed his face, looking slightly older than seventeen.

But what was most peculiar about him was that he didn’t look remotely close to dying. He looked very much alive, and not about to drown in the dark depths of the ocean, which was supposed to be his fate.

“Where is he?” Rin growled.

“Where he was supposed to die,” answered Gou, without looking at her brother. She smoothed her fingers over the glass surface, which reflected endless depths of blue. “The ocean.”

Rin was taken aback. “That’s impossible. I combed every inch of the ocean for his soul.”

“Did you think to search on earth?”

The thought had occurred to Rin, but it was useless at that time. Finding a soul in the ocean was already difficult; finding the right soul among millions was nigh on impossible, and Rin had perfectly logical reasons not to do so.  “No one could have survived that storm,” he stubbornly replied. “If they didn’t drown, they became food for the sharks.”

“Then the conclusion is simple,” said Gou, as she held up the mirror, which now showed the elusive mortal’s profile, with another’s. Rin’s eyes narrowed at the familiar sight of deep blue eyes, and hissed his name under his breath.

 

~~~

 “Haruka.”

Haruka turned around and saw Rin, the god of death, scowling at him. Rin wore his ocean form today, his tail a deep shade of red, with fins sharp enough to cut, leaving a wide berth wherever he passed.

“What do you want, Rin?”

“Your human companion,” Rin replied, as he swam down to Haruka’s level. “He’s supposed to be dead.”

Haruka stared at him for a moment before looking away, an unfamiliar feeling of irritation welling within him. “No. I require his presence a little longer.”

He made a move to go back to the coral garden where Makoto was resting, signalling the end of his interest in the conversation but Rin blocked his way.

“You never denied me before,” said Rin, brandishing his lethal tail fins in front of him, forcing Haruka to move back. “Why did you save him?”

“I wanted to.” It was enough reason, for Haruka never wanted for anything, and as a god, he was entitled to fulfill this want as anyone else.

Rin made a small noise of outrage. “You can’t just _do_ that,” he said, as he encroached closer. “There are rules Haruka, and you _broke_ them.”

“I am bound by no rules. I am a free god. I do as I please.” Haruka replied, not coldly nor angrily, for what he said was simply the truth.

Rin’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe so, but _humans_ have rules.  And one of those rules is that they have to die when their time comes.”

Haruka could not understand Rin’s adamant insistence on claiming the one human Haruka took for himself. “He is but one mortal of millions waiting for you to claim them,” he pointed out. “Why is he so important?”

Rin looked incredulous, as if Haruka’s question offended him on a fundamental level. “Why is it important? Haruka, do you not realize what you've done? Not only did you change his fate, you dragged him here, into the ocean. He is a human, a land walker and he does not belong here.”

“He came with me on his own free will,” said Haruka, feeling the need to point it out. He was a god who valued freedom after all.

“Only because you showed him your true form,” Rin countered, unfazed. “No human would be fool enough to turn down a god.”

Haruka paused to consider Rin’s words. It was true—he didn’t think that Makoto’s acquiescence may have been motivated by intimidation. It was a troubling thought. He frowned and decided to try a different tack. “I just wanted him to see the beauty of the ocean. I’ll send him back on land, once I’ve shown him what he needs to see.” The compromise did not sit well with Haruka, but he did not wish to anger the god of death any more than what was necessary.

“You mean, what you _want_ him to see. He does not need to see anything. What use is the ocean’s beauty to one who will live on land?”

“He can keep it in his memory and educate the surface dwellers,” Haruka replied. “Show them that the ocean is more than a body of water to cross, and that it housed more beautiful creatures than fearsome ones.”

“No one will believe him,” Rin sneered. “Humans are cynical and fearful of the unknown. His knowledge will do him more harm than good.”

“I believe in him,” Haruka said firmly, and meant it.

“And not in me? I’m a god who has dealt with humanity for millenia,” Rin said, incensed. “He is but _one human_. What can he do?”

“Apparently, evade the god of death for four years.”

Rin pursed his lips, displeased with Haruka’s insolence. “He cannot evade me forever. He will die someday. They all do,” he said. He moved closer, right into Haruka’s space, and looked straight into his eyes. “And when that day comes, should you be foolish enough to still keep him, I will _enjoy_ taking him from you.”

Then he turned around and swam away, a furious red spot amidst the blue waters.

“Haruka!” It was Makoto’s voice, calling for him. Haruka cast Rin’s disappearing form one last look before turning back. He mulled over Rin’s words briefly, before deciding that they were not important right now. Haruka was perfectly aware of how human death worked, and while it bothered him to be reminded that Makoto would one day have to die,  that day wasn’t coming anytime soon, so as long as Haruka had anything to say about it.

They were but halfway through their journey, and there was still much to see. 

~~~

As the god of death, Rin could assume any form he wished for, be it land or sea or air. On land, he had legs and walked like humans; in the air, he grew large powerful wings as dark as night. His ocean form was a fiery red, easily seen from a distance. However, his natural form was a human in all appearances except for his teeth, jagged and sharp, like a ferocious hunter.

Many people believed that the god of death lived in a cold place beneath the earth ruling the dead with an iron fist. But that was where they were wrong. Rin was the god of _death,_ not god of _the dead_ , and he did not rule the place where souls went when they died.  No one knew who ruled them, just that these places had existed since the beginning of time.

Rin only wielded the nature of death itself, which is the end of life.  He had no fixed domain; he went where he was needed, and he was always needed. Needed but not wanted. Needed but not loved.  He ended lives, destroyed dreams, heralded the start of winter and the end of wars.

His was a thankless job. Humans feared him, shunned him, created all forms of rituals to keep him away. 

But humans were different and they had their own set of rules. Rin resented them, for they were the only creatures whose lives he could not end voluntarily. Rin could kill the mightiest elephants, or the largest birds of prey with but a swing of his blade, but he could not lift even a finger against humans when he pleased.

Humans were special because they had a _soul,_ and they died only when their bodies were too weak to contain their souls.

Unlike other living creatures, Rin’s function for humans laid on a vastly different scale. When humans died, Rin needed to bring their souls to their intended place in the afterlife. To do this, he grafted the souls of the departed on his skin, so they could not escape, and carried them where they were supposed to go. On the souls’ brief stay, he would feel their memories, witness the life that he had to take away. In this way, he felt their hurt, their anger, their joy and their sadness. It was both his burden and his gift, and this was what distinguished him from other gods, for he was the only god who knew what it meant to be human.

Human memories were powerful things, and most of the time, Rin had to take on several of them at the same time. Anyone else would be driven mad with the force of a hundred different memories. But not Rin. Rin was strong, one of the strongest gods on earth, and this was why this duty was given to him and no one else.

Nevertheless, it didn’t change the fact that Rin didn’t care to be the god of humans, for they were fickle, demanding and made the most stunningly terrible decisions. Most of the time, they had little grasp over their own limits, and Rin hated that about them. But he had no choice but to deal with them, for that was the lot that he was given.

If he had a choice, what he wanted was simple. Dominion over three fourths of the earth, of creatures abundant.

He coveted Haruka’s domain. Haruka had it easy, for he ruled creatures that kept to themselves, that knew their place, and cared little about banalities like reputation, power, money or love. He was free to roam where he pleased, when he pleased. He was free, and Rin wanted that.

But alas, what Rin wanted no longer mattered. Haruka had his role, and Rin had his, and the world needed them differently. Rin did what he must, and he did it well.

“I should have known that Haruka was the reason he survived,” Rin muttered. “This changes a lot of things.”

“Indeed it does,” Gou agreed, as she peered at Makoto’s mirror, which had yet to show any sort of damage. “There will be death to come for sure. Many choices will be made. Even by you.”

“Choices? I think not,” Rin scoffed bitterly, as he glared at the mirror and the soul that thwarted him. “I am death. My only purpose is to end lives and transfer souls. I do not have a choice.”

~~~

As he promised, Haruka showed Makoto the many sights of his domain. Lots of creatures terrified him, but more loved him, for his heart was kind and pure, full of awe of Haruka’s world. Like a light that never went out, Makoto’s smile lit up the darkest corners of Haruka’s ocean.

As Haruka rested, watching Makoto swim with the dolphins, it suddenly occurred to him that he derived great joy from seeing his mortal happy. Makoto adored these playful creatures, and they adored him in turn. He managed to convey to the creatures how much he cared for them, in a way Haruka had difficulty conveying himself. In many ways, Makoto’s touch had served as a channel for Haruka to appreciate the creatures under his jurisdiction, for his human nature made him more expressive and sensitive, showing incomparable empathy with creatures so dissimilar to him.

Haruka was leaning back against a bed of soft sea sponges when Makoto tumbled into him, laughing. His laughter was infectious, and Haruka felt the corner of his lips lifting into a smile. He’d been doing that a lot as of late.

When they righted themselves, Haruka found himself staring into Makoto’s deep green eyes, at a range closer than he was used to.

Haruka carded his fingers through Makoto’s hair. “What are you thinking?”

Makoto paused, lowering his eyes, as if gathering courage to speak. “I’m thinking,” he murmured, as he lifted his gaze back to meet Haruka’s. “That I’d like to kiss you.”

Haru tilted his head in question. “What is a kiss?”

Makoto pulled back a little, looking vaguely confused. “Didn’t you kiss me when you first brought me here?”

“Was that what it was called? I was merely granting you the ability to breathe.”

“Oh.” Makoto suddenly sounded small as he slowly edged away, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly.  “Well, it’s okay then,” he said, with a short laugh. “We don’t have to, I’m sorry to assume—“

“—You have not answered my question,” Haruka interrupted, grabbing Makoto’s wrist. “What is a kiss?”

Makoto swallowed nervously before answering. “… It is what humans do,” he whispered. “To show their affection for each other.”

Haruka considered the response, and decided it was something he wished to experience. “Very well. I shall allow it.”

Makoto looked surprised, but happy with Haruka’s answer. Slowly, he brought his hands up and cradled Haru’s face between his palms.  He pressed their lips together, similar to the way Haru transferred breaths in Makoto’s first foray into the ocean. It felt odd doing this without any practical purpose, but Haru surmised it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Is that all?” he asked, when Makoto pulled away.

Makoto’s face went pink, like the corals of pacific beaches. It was a peculiar but pleasing colour for a human. “It could be more,” he said shyly. “If you’ll allow it.”

Haruka liked this new colour, and if kissing caused it, then even better. “I do.”

Makoto went even pinker, closer to red, like the scales of the cardinal fish. “Alright then,” he whispered, and moved forward to press his lips against Haruka’s again. This time, Makoto opened his mouth and Haruka mirrored it. Haruka felt the slide of what he surmised to be Makoto’s tongue, twining with his, briefly.

“Does this please you?” Haruka asked when Makoto pulled away again.

Makoto nodded, still blushing. “It does.”

Haruka leaned forward, and held Makoto’s chin between two fingers. “Where else?”

“Where… else?” Makoto looked startled and embarrassed by the question.

“Where else can I touch that will please you?”

At the end of it all, Haruka was fascinated with the human body—it had so many interesting pressure points, and made so many lovely sounds. Most especially, he liked the way Makoto looked soft and awed, when he came apart under Haruka’s touch, an anchorless flex that curved his back into a perfect arch.

He liked it very much.

~~~

Rin didn’t really enjoy watching the fate of humans—as someone who only concerned himself with taking their souls, he had little interest in their lives.

But there were times, like this, when he was grateful to be privy to Gou’s knowledge.

“Something strange is happening,” Gou announced.

“I agree. Of all the gods to take a _human_ lover...” Rin laughed at the irony. “Haruka had always been a peculiar one.”

Gou turned towards him, and Rin stopped laughing. She had a sad look in her eyes, one that Rin was not accustomed to seeing. It stirred something within Rin—for no matter how much it made him weary to endlessly carry out the final fate of his sister’s charges, he hated seeing Gou troubled about it even more. Her job was a difficult one, a tireless process of weaving human fate through splintered glass and fire, watching and waiting, building and breaking. 

“Yes. But that is not what I found strange,” she replied softly.

Rin frowned and laid a hand on his sister’s shoulder. He couldn’t think of any other reason that would make her react like this. “What is it then?”

Slowly, Gou pointed to two new mirrors forming above the kiln. Rin raised an eyebrow and flew up, peering into the newly created surfaces. His scythe dropped to the floor, and it made a loud clanging sound which echoed throughout the halls.

One mirror showed Haruka, leading Makoto by the hand to his palace beneath the waves, a small smile of contentment tugging at the corners of his lips.

The other showed Rin’s reflection.

~tbc~


	3. Never Going to Swim With You Again

Before long, they finished their journey, and Makoto adapted to the ocean, moving like he was born in its depths despite possessing a human form.

“Do you now see how beautiful it is?” Haruka asked, though the answer was clear as day on Makoto’s face.

“Yes,” Makoto answered, his eyes sparkling like sunlight reflecting off water. “It's as you said.”

“Are you still afraid?”

Makoto shook his head, and squeezed Haruka’s hand. “Not when I’m with you.”

Haruka knew he was supposed to bring Makoto back to where he came from now, as he had told Rin he would. But the thought displeased him, and he was rarely displeased. He frowned. It should not be this hard. He could not explain why, but he wanted to keep Makoto in his ocean forever.

But Rin was right. Makoto was human, and belonged to the world of humans. His being in Haruka’s ocean disrupted the natural order of things, and Haru disliked disorder.

But he disliked the thought of Makoto leaving him and returning to earth even more.

Perhaps he needed other counsel. Rin was but one of the many gods with constant contact among humans. There were others, ones who witnessed human life for millennia, who may provide him the answers he sought.

He took Makoto back to his palace, and led him to the throne room, Haruka’s seat of power, the safest place in the ocean.

“Stay here,” Haruka instructed.

Makoto looked confused. “Where are you going?”

“To confer with other gods,” said Haruka.  “I will be back soon.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“No.” He cupped Makoto’s cheek with his palm, scrutinizing his face, and Makoto happily leaned into the touch.  “I expect you to be here when I come back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Makoto promised.

“Good.” He kissed Makoto on the forehead before turning around towards his palace gates. “I shall be back soon.”

 

~~~

 

“Gou…” Rin snapped out of his shock and he wrenched his eyes away from the mirrors to look at his sister. “What is the meaning of this?”

“What it has always meant,” said Gou, a faraway look in her eyes. “A life, and an end.”

Rin refused to believe it. It was preposterous—gods were immortal, and their lives were unbreakable. This had to be a mistake. “How could I die?” he thundered, fists clenched. “Who would kill _me?_ ”

Gou said nothing and just stared at the anomalous mirrors, an unreadable expression on her face. Rin watched her face for a sign— Gou would know.

“Gou, tell me.”

“I can’t,” Gou whispered, looking down, and Rin could tell how much it hurt his sister to refuse him. “I’m sorry Rin.”

“Tell me this at least,” Rin pleaded, as he knelt down at his sister’s feet, and clutched at her dark robes. “Is it Haruka’s human? Is he what is causing all of this?”

Gou leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Rin’s shoulders, a clement gesture meant to soften the truth she was about to say. “Yes.”

The word was spoken gently, but Rin heard it as if Gou shouted in his ear. His mind flashed back to the image of Makoto’s mirror, and the one that showed Rin’s smiling face. Nothing about it seemed right at all.

But it didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Gou was the goddess of fate, and she was incapable of lies.

“This can’t be my fate.” Rin was shaking, his body recalling a bevy of powerful human emotions, and he recognized some of them to be anger and fear. Gou squeezed his shoulders, comforting him the best way she can.

The silence was broken by the sound of breaking mirrors, reminding him off his current station. Even as he came to grips with the potential of his own mortality, he could not dwell on it. Humans died every day. He could not rest. He had souls to claim.

Slowly, he removed himself from Gou’s embrace and stood up. Already his skin tingled, in preparation for another reaping. But his mind was far from his current duty. The sight of his own reflection still haunted him.

“I’ll fix this,” he declared quietly.

“Haruka is a powerful god, Rin.” Gou already knew what he was going to do. Of course. “As long as the mortal is under his protection, you cannot hope to harm him.”

“Then I’ll just have to make sure the mortal leaves his protection,” Rin replied, summoning his scythe to his grasp. He walked towards the exit, his wings spreading behind his back. Before he reached the end, he turned his head briefly to throw his sister a cool glance. “Or is this one of those things that will result to that fate I’m trying to avoid?”

Gou’s eyes clouded over, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to give in and allow her affection for Rin to break her own rules. And then the moment passed, and she looked away, back at the mirrors under her rule.

“Do what you feel is right, Rin.” 

~~~

 

The god of day was easy to find, for he could be called anywhere where the sun touched. It was in the early morning, and the sun had just began rising in the east. Haruka needed only to call his name.

“I have come to seek your counsel,” Haruka spoke quietly, in a cove where pale yellow light filtered through the crevices between rocks. “You who sheds light on the whole world. Nagisa.”

At that moment, each dew drop on every blade of grass quivered as if alive with sunlight from within, and the air was filled with energy, the molecules vibrating, signifying the oncoming presence of a being of power. Soon enough, the god of day materialized within the cove, looking bright and youthful.

“What a pleasant surprise,” said the golden haired god, looking amused. He approached the ocean god with light, playful steps. “Does this have something to do with the human companion you’ve taken for yourself?”

“He came willingly,” Haruka answered tersely, and did not ask how the sun god knew.

“Mmm, that was never the issue,” said Nagisa, laughing. His laughter tinkled like bells, light and airy, and around the human world, flowers bloomed and lovers rose from their beds.  “Though I understand why you have to mention that.”

Haruka nodded. He respected freedom in all its forms, and humans were not exempt from this.

Nagisa’s eyes lit up with delight, and he giggled. “Well this is the first time you’ve ever come to me for help. What  is your question?”

“What is it about humans that makes it difficult to let them go?” Haruka asked, straight to the point.

Nagisa’s eyes went wide. “Why would you want to let him go?”

“I don't want to,” Haruka admitted. “But I have to, because he doesn’t belong in the ocean.”

“That’s your concern? That he does not belong in your world?” Nagisa asked, looking amused. “Humans go where they do not belong all the time.” He perched on the edge of the flat rock floor, dipping his feet in the water, which instantly grew warm at his touch. “Tell me, does _he_ want to go?”

Haruka remembered the way Makoto always brightened up in his presence, and how much he enjoyed lacing their fingers together whenever they travelled. “No, I don’t think he does," he finally decided, and the thought made him feel warm.

Nagisa tapped a finger to his lips. “You don’t want to let him go and he doesn’t want to leave,” he summarized. “I don't see any problem with this.”

“Yes, but I wish to know _why_ I can’t let him go,” Haruka repeated, feeling mildly annoyed at having to repeat himself.

“It should think it’s obvious,” Nagisa said, unmindful of the ocean god’s irritated demeanor. He smiled knowingly and reached forward to tap Haruka’s nose. “You're in love with him.”

Haruka’s brow furrowed. “Love.” He tested the word in his mouth. It was foreign and yet he couldn’t help feeling that it was what he was looking for. “I do not know of a deity for love.”

“That’s because there isn’t one,” Nagisa answered wisely. “Love cannot be governed. It is its own means and end. It is a beautiful thing.”

Haruka pursed his lips. “Beauty.”

At the mention of the word, a new deity appeared as if summoned. Rei, the god of the moon and the night sky. Dark and beautiful, with hair as blue as Haruka’s ocean, eyes the colour of amethyst quartz, dressed in robes that seem to be made of the night sky itself. It was an awe-inspiring ensemble that looked out of place in the sunny light of the cove.

“Human love is indeed a beautiful thing,” said Rei, settling beside Nagisa, who gave him a dazzling smile, and scooted closer.

“So I was told.”

“But be warned ocean god. Human love is as dangerous as it is beautiful, and for gods, even more so,” Rei spoke, in deep dramatic tones. “You will want all his angles, his perpendicularity. You’ll find beauty in the curve of his spine, on the lines of his body, and the hue of his eyes.” His violet eyes glittered with the spark of wisdom as old as time. “It is in this way that you will still remember the intimate way he touches you, even when he is long gone, and you are merely chasing his ghost.”

“Ghost?” Haruka repeated.

“He is mortal, ocean god,” said Rei, as if in reminder.

“His lifetime is but a mere speck in this world,” Nagisa added.

The atmosphere grew dark. An unexplained chill run through the air, and around them, the grass and other vegetation wilted slowly, like they were being drained of life.

“That’s right. It _is_ a speck,” a new voice said.

The three of them turned towards it.

Rin appeared before them, dark wings folding behind his back with a sibilant hiss. Outlined against the rising sun, he looked majestic, proud and haughty.  Today, he seemed to have visited while in transit to the soul spaces in the upper planes, judging by the bountiful harvest of souls currently emblazoned on his skin, faint glowing marks peeking out from beneath the folds of his garb.

“Have you forgotten? Human lives are short and fragile, easily broken in the blink of an eye,” said Rin. “I told you before Haruka. He will die."

Haruka frowned. “I haven’t forgotten since the last time you told me.”

"And I am repeating it for your own good,” Rin replied.  His gaze was hard, reprimanding. “You should not have loved that mortal. It will be your undoing.”

Haruka’s eyes narrowed, his tail involuntarily flicking in indignation, causing ripples that would become powerful waves in the other end of the ocean. “Do not presume to call me weak.”

“That wasn’t what I said,” Rin countered. He paused before speaking again, leaning against a rocky outcrop, towering over the rest of them. “My sister herself had declared that your mortal shall herald your downfall.” He then focused his gaze solely on Haruka. “And my sister cannot lie.”

Nagisa and Rei were both stunned at this announcement, and they turned questioning eyes towards Haruka, gauging his reaction.

It also came as a surprise to Haruka, but he dismissed it, judging the very notion of such a thing as ludicrous and entirely without any reasonable merit. “As you said, he is but one human. What can he do to ruin me?”

“What _can_ he do?” Rin’s laughter echoed around the cove, and Haruka was reminded of the morning Rin asked him the very same thing.  “He can die. He _will_ die. And his love for you will die with him. He will leave you with nothing but a memory. It is not his presence but his absence that will destroy you.” Rin’s words were sharp, cutting, like the long curved blade of the scythe that hung heavy over his shoulder. “And believe me Haruka, I know plenty about destruction.”

Haruka didn’t want to believe him, even though he knew Rin had no reason to lie. Rin was many things, acerbic and demanding being some of them, but he was not a liar. And yet, despite knowing this, Haruka found it impossible to believe that something that inspired such powerful emotions within him could actually lead to his destruction. It made no sense at all. So he turned towards the other two gods for confirmation. “Is this true?”

Rei looked away. “I would not say it in such caustic terms. But it is true, more often than not.”

“Nagisa?”

“It’s fairly common,” Nagisa admitted. “Love destroys as much as it builds. It is a fact of human life.”

“See? If you know what’s good for you, Haruka, you’ll let him go. I will take him someday; that is inevitable as the rising sun. Make it easier for yourself,” said Rin, with an air of finality. “Make him leave while you still have the chance.”

 

~~~

 

_This will destroy you._

_Do not fall in love with a mortal. It will be your undoing._

_His existence will only herald your downfall._

These were the thoughts that Haruka brought with him, when he traveled back to his palace under the ocean.

Makoto was sleeping in Haruka’s resting place, his head loosely cradled in his arms. He stirred when he felt Haruka settle beside him.

“Welcome back, Haruka,” Makoto murmured, before scooting over and pressing his face to Haruka’s chest, sighing happily.

Haruka ran his fingers through Makoto’s free-flowing hair, studying his face. Makoto looked so peaceful in his arms, and the sight of him soothed Haruka in a way he couldn’t explain. If love was the destructive force the other gods told him about, then this was far from it.

They were wrong. Perhaps what he felt was merely affection- fondness, for it had been the first time his interest in the human realm was piqued. This was simply a novelty.

This wasn’t love.

~~~

 

“That was cruel, brother,” said Gou, as Rin came back to their shared realm, after bringing the latest batch of souls to their resting places.

“That was  _necessary_ ,” Rin replied without malice. “I will not go down with Haruka, and I’ll save him too if I must.” He eyed the two mirrors that housed his and Haruka’s fates. On Haruka’s mirror, he saw the human sleeping quietly, his head nestled on the space between Haruka’s shoulder and breastbone, while Haruka stayed still, unmoving, watching him like a sentinel.

“And if I need to hurt him to do that, then so be it.”

 

~~~

 

When Makoto woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. Haruka had not left his side, contemplating his discussion with the other gods and what he needed to do now. 

“Makoto,” Haruka said, once Makoto stirred and woke up. “How do you define love?”

Makoto looked startled by the sudden question, peering at Haruka as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Haruka just stared back earnestly, waiting.

After a while, Makoto relaxed and smiled. “It’s when you want nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with another person,” he explained, looking down shyly.  “It’s when you bring out the hidden qualities in each other, reaching some sort of equilibrium. It’s when someone else’s happiness is your own.”

Haruka stayed quiet for a while as he pondered the response. Makoto’s definition was very different from what the gods told him. Nevertheless, there was only one question he needed an answer to, before he made a concrete decision. “Does it make you happy to see me happy?”

Makoto’s eyes widened, colour rising to his cheeks. “Yes,” he breathed. “More than anything.”

“I see.” Haruka closed his eyes, remembering the nights they spent together, the way Makoto flushed so prettily against him, the way he chanted Haruka’s name in something that wasn’t worship but far, far greater. He remembered seeing Makoto’s smile for the first time, the long years he spent searching for him, and the inexplicable joy he felt when he found Makoto again.

It was only now that he had a name for it.

When Haruka opened his eyes, Makoto was looking at him with eyes full of longing, full of hope, waiting for his response.  Haruka reached out and touched Makoto’s face. He knew what he had to do.

 

~~~

“Well?” Rin asked idly, as he sharpened his blade. “Did I succeed?”

“That depends on what you count as success.”

“The human.” RIn lifted his scythe to eye level, studying its sharpness. “Will Haruka let him go? Will they break or will they endure?”

“That remains to be seen,” Gou replied.  “Humans are incredibly resilient.”

Rin snorted. “They do not break easily, yes. And yet…”

 

~~~

 

Haruka cradled the back of Makoto’s neck, and kissed him deeply, his other hand tugging Makoto up by the waist. Lithe water currents wrapped around them like ribbons, enclosing them in a sphere of pure blue, a temporary pocket universe where nothing but the two of them existed. Makoto made a noise of surprise, but he eagerly returned the kiss and let Haruka do what he wanted, wrapping his own lean arms around Haruka’s waist, fingers lacing at the small of his back.

 

~~~

 

“... it is the easiest thing in the world to hurt them,” Gou finished softly.

 

~~~

 

Haruka broke away, and took a moment to admire the way Makoto looked so dazed, and drunk in love with him, committing it to memory, before thumbing the corner of Makoto’s mouth, and moving back, the swirling curtain of currents falling flat around them.

“You need to leave.”

 

~tbc~


	4. Meaningless Without You

The look on Makoto’s face struck Haruka like a thousand spears.

“What?” Makoto asked, eyes wide, skin a sickly pallor, voice trembling. “But…why?”

“You are a human. You don’t belong here.” The excuse was flimsy, and for the first time in his existence, Haruka hated himself.

“Belongingness isn’t where I come from, it’s where I choose to be,” Makoto argued, pleading, reaching out and curling his fingers around Haruka’s wrist.  “And I choose to be here. I belong _with you_.”

Haruka stared at the hand holding on to him, a gentle physical gesture that tore at his resolve like vicious claws. Makoto was making this difficult, and it took all Haruka’s force of will not to give in, like what he wanted to.

 _For my kingdom,_ he reminded himself. “I am a god. You are a mortal,” he said, his insides growing heavy at the words. “I only brought you here to show you how the ocean was still beautiful.”

“But… I need you.”

“I don’t.”

The moment the words left his lips, Haruka wanted to take them back.

Makoto looked so broken, like the world as he knew it was ripped from him, and Haruka hated himself even more because he was the one who put that look there.  

“I see.” Makoto whispered, as he moved back, removing his grasp on the ocean god’s wrist. Haruka said nothing, but there was a void in his chest, ugly and black, and he refused to recognize it as regret.

Makoto remained quiet again for some time, before he shook his head, and actually smiled up at Haruka. But it was not one of the smiles Haruka was used to—it was brittle and reeking with pretension, a flimsy cover to hide the ugliness beneath. “Of course... ”

“You have one day in that form,” Haruka said, his voice devoid of inflection, even as pain roared beneath his chest. “Break through the surface. Live the rest of your life as a human. And never come back.”

Makoto’s eyes widened. Haruka didn’t know how he did it, but there was water coming from Makoto’s eyes, water that wasn’t sea water, but salt water none the less. Was this a sign that Makoto was already rejecting the water that Haruka dragged him into?

Haru decided that it was so. He reached over and kissed the not-seawater from Makoto’s eyes.  “Go. Be free,” he whispered, before turning back around, and swimming away.

  

~~~

The cracks grew on Makoto’s mirror, unfurling like an intricate spiderweb across the glass. Beneath the cracks, the mirror reflected dark waters, the flash of fangs, and the sinuous length of a serpent, lurking in the shadows.

“This has been a long time coming,” said Gou, as she traced the cracks with her finger. She looked up at Rin, her face tinged with a hint of sorrow. “And yet it comes too soon.”

“It’s about time. I have grown weary of waiting,” Rin said, as he rose from his seat, and began preparations for another reaping.

There was something in Gou’s eyes, like she didn’t want Rin to proceed with his duties. It was jarring, to say the least—Gou had always been an impartial goddess; this was the first time she expressed anything other than pure neutrality towards a human soul. 

But Gou’s feelings on the matter were irrelevant. Rin had a duty to fulfill. Makoto was an anomaly that should never have existed if it weren’t for Haruka’s interference.  It was up to Rin to set things right.

“I wish you the best, brother,” said Gou after what seemed like a long time.

“You don’t have to wish me anything. I will fix this. That soul will be mine tonight.” With that, Rin picked up his scythe in one smooth motion, stepped over the edge of the earth, and dove into the waiting ocean below him. 

  
~~~

 

Haruka hurtled into the open sea, away from his palace, and refused to look back. Already, the water seemed colder. So accustomed was he to sharing Makoto’s warmth, that his world already seemed different without him there. He could still taste the salt from Makoto’s eyes and it tasted like a final goodbye.

He swam, immersing himself in his duties to dull the pain in his chest, pain that seemed to grow stronger with every passing mile he was away from Makoto. Leaving should not hurt so much as this.

But it did. Already, something felt missing—after finally knowing what love was, loneliness was unbearable.

But it was better this way. He needed to save his kingdom. Makoto lived without Haruka before, and he will do it again. They will both move on. They must.

And if Haruka was fooling himself, he did not notice.

 

~~~

 

Rin watched as Haruka’s mortal slowly ascended to the surface, tears free-flowing  from his eyes. To say that Rin was familiar with such a scenario was an understatement. If Rin could collect all the tears he had wrought throughout his duties, he could drown a thousand men.

Makoto was drawing closer to the surface when his foot caught along a jut protruding along a coral reef. He never saw the black and white striped snake that he disturbed. It was just as the mirror showed Rin.

It happened quickly, like all serpent strikes did. Makoto screamed, as inch-long fangs sank deep into his calf, instilling pain and venom in his veins.

Despite his earlier feelings of vindictiveness, Rin couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sympathy. Haruka would be heartbroken to find his human dead in his realm, not even reaching the goal he was released for, but that was the way of things. Makoto already outlived his own death once; Rin would not let it happen a second time.

Dolphins immediately came to Makoto’s aid, but the damage was done. Rin watched, fascinated, as Makoto’s leg bled, the sharp scent of blood carrying across the water.  The sharks would be coming soon.

He was close to the surface. Rin knew that the nearby beach had a human settlement, and it would not be impossible for Makoto to survive, should he choose this route.

But Gou said that Rin would be able to take his soul today. So he was no longer surprised when Makoto turned back, and let the dolphins take him back to Haruka’s palace.

 _A chance to say goodbye_ , Rin decided. He would give Haruka that much.

 

~~~

Haruka heard it, the dolphin’s lament, and he stopped in his journey, seized with a sudden, irrational fear. It was the call of death, and yet Haruka felt nothing from his scales.

Which meant only one thing.

He was back in his palace before he knew it. The gates were open, and the water smelled strongly of iron and venom, like the blood of no sea creature Haruka had in his dominion.

He swam into the heart of his palace, where the smell was the strongest and froze at the sight that greeted him.

“Rin.”

The god of death rose from his casual perch on Haruka’s throne. At his feet, Makoto lay, gravely injured, blood trickling out his mouth, his leg looking ravaged beyond repair.

“Hello Haruka,” Rin said coolly. “I have been waiting for you to turn this one over to me.”

Cold ran through Haru’s entire being, freezing him. Rin was bending over Makoto’s prone form, his long sharp fingers tracing circles above Makoto’s heart, waiting for his final breath.  Makoto’s eyes looked glazed over, tired, and longing for rest—the kind of rest that only Rin could give him at this point. Still, he did not appear to be aware of Rin.

It was what forced Haruka to move—Makoto could not see Rin, not yet. Humans could not see the god of death while they still drew breath. But Haruka’s hope was short-lived, because even though Makoto could not see Rin, it was evident that he could feel Rin’s presence, tiny shivers wracking his broken frame, the inevitability of death wrapping around him like a shroud, ready to snatch his heart and life away. 

“If you’re thinking of saving him, you are too late. His body is past repair, and I am just waiting for his heart to stop beating,” Rin said, crushing the last of Haruka’s hope. Rin laid his head on Makoto’s chest and grinned.  “His heartbeat is so slow now. So take this opportunity to say your goodbyes, ocean god. You are lucky I am allowing you this much.”

Haruka fought to stop himself from shaking. “Did you do this to him?”

Rin shook his head and straightened up, his sharp tail fins narrowly avoiding Makoto’s neck. “I can’t kill humans, Haruka. I can only take their souls away,” he said. He gestured to the wounds on Makoto’s leg, which had just resulted to ugly black patches beneath the tan skin. “See that bite? It was one of your sea serpents, and its venom has spread through his weak human body, killing him. And yet instead of pushing through to get back to the surface, where he was already so close, he chose to make his way back here. And you know why, don’t you?”

There was a lump in Haruka’s throat that made it difficult to speak. “No.”

Rin leaned on his scythe, and his smile was almost sad, except Haruka knew better.  “He’s hoping to see you before he dies.”

At that moment, Makoto’s eyes fluttered open and saw Haru.

Haruka’s spidery hands balled into fists. He turned away from Rin, leaving their sphere of communication. “I told you to leave,” he said. His voice was rough, with a hint of a tremble, lacking the power to command three fourth’s of the earth.

“I tried to. But I got attacked,” Makoto answered. He sounded weak but the corners of his lips lifted slightly, into a smile, and it hurt Haruka to look at him. “But that’s alright. This is alright.”

“How?” Haruka asked, his voice unsteady and hoarse. “How is this in any way alright?”

At this, Makoto's weak smile brightened. “I thought about it. Without you, it’s meaningless. If I die here, in the water, I’ll still be where you are,” he answered. “Eventually I’ll be one with the water, with what you need and love most. Every passing moment, you will breathe me.”

The ocean god felt pain again, like nothing he had ever imagined, colder than icebergs, blacker than dead stars. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Makoto should be alive on land, and Haru would still have hope to see him, because he still existed on this plane. If he died, Haruka knew Makoto would be in a place where Haruka could no longer follow.

Haruka’s internal turmoil must have been apparent on his face because Makoto suddenly looked troubled.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, suddenly sounding small. “This is so terribly selfish of me. I just… I just wanted to be where you are.”

 _No no no_.  The sick void within Haruka twisted, and he recognized it to be fear. “Not like this,” he answered, his voice choked around the edges.  “I never wanted it like this.”

How could he have let this happen? Was he wrong? Had he been so hell bent on the idea that Makoto’s love will bring him nothing but destruction, that he failed to see what the _loss_ of it will do to him instead?

“It’s okay,” Makoto said soothingly, as if to comfort Haruka, and wasn’t it ironic—Makoto was dying, yet here he was, still devoted to Haruka, always and without fail. “It’s better this way. Haruka I lo…”

His eyes closed, his sentence left unfinished, and his hand dropped to his side.

A few feet away, Rin lifted his scythe, and draped the edge over one of his shoulders.

“Finally.”

~~~

 

Up on the surface, and around the world, the waves grew rougher, crashing towards the shore, the entire ocean reflecting the stormy temperament of its ruler. Haruka turned towards Rin, eyes narrowed, a powerful aura radiating off of him in breathtakingly fearsome waves.  “You. You were the one who said he had to leave so I can save my kingdom.”

“I did,” Rin replied, not at all perturbed with Haruka’s wrath. “That part is still true. My sister cannot lie.”

“He was not supposed to die this soon.”

“He was supposed to die five years ago.”

“I wanted him to get back to earth,” Haruka argued. “He was supposed to die there. Not here. Not now.”

“Not even gods get everything they want,” Rin replied and moved swiftly to take Makoto’s soul.

Predictably enough, Haruka blocked him. “Don’t take him away.”

Rin pushed back. “I warned you. He lived for you all this time and you let him go. He belongs to me now.”

Haruka’s eyes blazed, currents of power surging through his form, and before Rin knew it, he was slammed against one of the rock walls of the ocean god’s palace by a wave of force so strong, a fissure broke out at the impact.  Out of nowhere, geysers of scalding water rose around him, and his arms were suddenly bound by kelp and bone. Corals sprung from the soft earth and formed a blockade around his temporarily tail, and Rin grunted, as they continued to grow up and inward, crushing him.

“You tricked me,” said Haruka, his voice brimming with cold fury. “I will not stand for this. Give him back, or I will imprison you here forever.”

Rin surveyed his bindings, carefully assessing how much damage he took.  It hurt, but he knew perfectly well what he was going to face when he decided to let Haruka witness Makoto’s death. If it was a simple matter of power, Rin knew he couldn’t win. This was Haruka’s terrain, and he held every advantage. 

But Rin’s immeasurable knowledge of human behaviour and motivations had instilled in him a sense of cunning no other god was capable of. He knew the power of words, and their ability to cut deeper than even the sharpest blades. If Rin was facing the Haruka who existed before Makoto, his words and cunning would have no effect, for Haruka would be incapable of thinking about himself within a context that involved strong emotions, let alone human ones such as _love._

But Makoto came and touched Haruka’s life, entered his world, transformed Haruka in ways even the ocean god himself was not aware of, and this made Haruka _vulnerable_. Rin was not lying, Haruka’s involvement with Makoto was the catalyst of his downfall, for it had given him an exploitable weakness.

Haruka had the power of the ocean and everything that lived in it in his disposal. But Rin had the rightful claim to Makoto’s soul.

It was almost too easy to predict how this would turn out.

Rin kept his head bowed, keeping his gaze on Makoto’s dying body, which Haruka possessively hovered over. “You’re not thinking anymore Haruka. It is true, my power is limited in your domain,” he started slowly. “Stripped down to our basics, we are both mere immortals performing the duties assigned to us. You, who commands three fourths of the earth, could trap me here,  for you can grow corals faster than I can drain their life.”

Then, slowly, he looked up and grinned. “But let’s not make it about us. Because it’s not. This is about Makoto. Your human. Your precious _mortal_.”

Haruka stilled. “No…”

It was amusing, watching Haruka’s terrifying countenance weaken at the mention of one word. “Yes. Fascinating isn’t it? You are one of the most powerful gods in existence, and yet, when it comes to human life, you can do _nothing_.” With a little exertion of his own power, Rin’s right hand broke free from its binding, and he used it to reach out to Makoto, beckoning him closer.

Makoto’s eyes were empty but they followed Rin’s hand, drawn to him. Rin had more power over Makoto this time. Haruka tried to pull him back but only succeeded in making Makoto bleed more.  “It doesn’t matter if Makoto has already adapted to your ways of living,” Rin continued, energy thrumming within his body as it awaited the entry of another soul.  “It doesn’t change the fact that he is not from this realm; he is _not_ one of _yours_.”

Haruka’s face was frozen in fear and helplessness, and Rin almost felt pity for him. The restraints holding Rin down splintered as Makoto drew closer. Makoto was _dying_ and Rin grew _stronger_ for it.

“When it comes to Makoto’s mortality, you are nothing more than a mere _bystander_.” Rin’s bindings finally shattered into a million pieces, creating a hoary veil of powdered bone and corals, like phantom smoke cocooning Makoto from Haruka’s sight.

“While I…” Rin touched Makoto’s face almost tenderly, his sharp fingers trailing Makoto’s lips, though his eyes remained fixed on Haruka’s.

“… am still the god of death.”

With that, Rin’s lifted his blade and struck it clean through Makoto’s heart.

~tbc~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this has a happy ending.


	5. I Need You

 

Haru watched, horrified, as Rin drew out Makoto’s blindingly white soul from his heart, currents blazing through the silver edges of the scythe and flowing into Rin’s skin like tiny intricate rivers. From anyone else’s perspective, the entire process was spellbinding, for Rin was at his most powerful and beautiful when absorbing human souls as a temporary piece of him.

But to Haruka, it was the most miserable sight in the universe, for it only meant one thing:  Rin was separating Makoto from him forever.  

And so, there was only one thing Haruka could do.

“I propose a bargain.”

Rin paused. The part of Makoto’s soul that hasn’t been absorbed by Rin’s skin clung feebly to his body by mere strands, glowing strips of light, bridging the chasm between life and death.

“Oh?” Rin’s red eyes flashed. “I’m listening.”

Haruka chose his next words carefully. He knew not how many bargained with death, and even less how to do it. What he knew was that he had something that Rin had always longed for but never admitted.

“Give him back to me,” he whispered. He looked Rin in eye, making sure not to miss his reaction, and uttered the words that would decide Makoto’s fate:

“And I will let you gain permanent control of any sea creature of your choosing.”

Rin’s eyes widened, clearly shocked, and Haruka wasted no time to take advantage of that one moment of vulnerability. He presented his tail, shimmering with all the life of the ocean. “Choose a scale. It is yours.”

Rin’s expression was one of deep hunger, like that of a man who had been chained underground his whole life being offered a chance to gaze at the sun. “A life for a life,” he mused.  “But what of his broken body? “

“I’ll give him a new one to contain his soul,” Haruka promised quickly, head already formulating the exact shape and form and colours that Makoto’s beautiful soul will be home in. “I shall fashion him after my own image. The upper torso of a human, the tail of a fish.”

“I see.” Rin’s eyes fell upon Makoto’s pale cold form, in contemplation, before veering back to meet Haruka’s gaze. “If I agree to this, you need to know that extending his life won’t remove his impending death,” he said, scrutinizing Haruka carefully. “He is still human. He will die as they all do.  Those are the rules, and they are absolute.”

Haruka understood this. He had understood for a while now. “Just don’t take him away today.”

Rin gazed back and forth between Haruka’s tail and Makoto’s soul for a long time. He looked conflicted, but excited. Makoto’s soul lent a visceral texture to Rin’s contemplation, a glowing reminder that Haruka was offering Rin a chance at power over something that lives, as opposed to something that would never rise again.

“Very well,” Rin said after a long while. “But we will do these on my terms.”

Haruka nodded. “What are your terms?”

“You have a human year.”

“But that’s not enough,” Haruka protested.

Rin’s grin was sharp, provocative, all teeth and lips.  “There is more than one creature in the ocean.”

Haruka stilled.

Rin spoke dangerous words. Dangerous, and supremely tempting words. Haruka turned over the offer in his head.

A year may be a speck in his existence, but not so for Makoto.  Haruka didn’t forget the most important thing: he can keep Makoto so as long as he still had creatures to surrender.  And the creatures of the ocean were vast and many. So many that he was certain that he would have enough creatures to to surrender until he was ready to face Makoto’s inevitable death, and still have enough left to maintain his power.

Decision made, he nodded. “I accept those terms,” he said.

Rin looked delighted. “Then swear on it.”

“I, Haruka, god of the ocean and all that live and breathe in it, relinquish control to you, Rin, the god of death, for any creature in my dominion, as equivalent exchange for a year of Makoto’s life,” Haruka recited without hesitation, without fear, the promise of Makoto’s return strengthening his resolve.

“Excellent,” said Rin, and reached out. Haruka shivered as the god of death touched his scales, searching for the creature he would take from the ocean god’s domain.

“This one,” Rin said softly, and plucked a jagged scale from Haruka’s tail fins, one of his sharpest. The scale quivered and glowed at his touch, before slowly turning a stark red, like fresh blood.  Immediately, the great white shark, one of the ocean’s fiercest predators, swam to his side, looking formidable, menacing, almost like death itself.

Haruka closed his eyes as he felt his connection to the creature severed. He took a moment to make peace with this loss before opening his eyes and looking at Rin. “He and all of his kind are yours,” he said. “Now give Makoto back.”

Rin nodded. “His new body?”

From the sand and sea foam, Haruka created a monochrome tail to replace Makoto’s broken legs, and fused them with Makoto’s upper half. Slowly, muscles and skin knitted over its new parts, fading to a smooth black and white tail. Makoto's skin glowed as his body repaired itself, adjusting to its new anatomy.

“There,” Haruka murmured once he was done, and looked at Rin expectantly.

Rin nodded once before unfurling his fingers and returning Makoto’s soul to its new vessel, flesh sealing over wisps of light and energy. Makoto’s body convulsed, the soul settling into foreign spaces, and for a moment Haruka feared his plan would not work.

Then, Makoto’s deep green eyes fluttered open, and bubbles rose from his lips, filling his new body with oxygen, with life. Overjoyed, Haruka wasted no time and gathered him in his arms.

Makoto blinked and looked at him. “… Haruka? Is this the upper planes?”

“No,” Haruka replied. “You haven’t died yet.”

“Then where am I?”

“You’re still here, in the ocean. With me.”

“Oh.” Makoto looked at his new body, his rubbery monochrome tail and dorsal fin, and then lifted his head to gaze up at Haruka, an unreadable expression on his face. It pained Haruka to see him so cautious, that slight hesitance reminding Haruka of the distance he never wanted between them again

And then slowly, Makoto’s lips curved up into that heartbreakingly gentle smile, and it was like seeing the sun at night. “Well, this is so much better.”                                                                  

Immense relief washed over Haruka. Makoto didn’t resent him, and still wanted to be with him, despite what he had done. That was worth _everything._ “I’m sorry,” Haruka whispered, stroking Makoto’s cheek, thumb brushing against the soft corner of Makoto’s lips. “I won’t make you leave again.”

He barely noticed Rin’s departure, still reeling in the joy that he had not lost his love to Rin’s sharp blade. He tightened his hold around Makoto, who embraced him back, burying his face on Haruka’s shoulder, trying to move impossibly closer.

“I’m glad. I missed you, Haruka,” Makoto breathed against Haruka’s neck.  “Thank you for bringing me back.”

Up on the surface, the sea calmed down, as the sun sank beneath the horizon, marking the end of another day.

 

~~~

 

For the first time in his entire existence, Rin felt happiness that was entirely his own, and not from the lingering memory of a soul in transit. His skin was empty of souls, but for now, that wasn’t important.

“What are you doing, Rin?” Gou asked, when Rin stepped through their shared realm, clutching his prize tightly in his hand.

“Being merciful,” Rin answered her, and took his seat by his sister’s side, to show her the scale Haruka gave him. It pulsed with life in Rin’s hands, and when Rin closed his eyes and concentrated, he could feel _everything._

“You’ve waited five years to claim that soul,” Gou said.

“I can wait a little more.”

“For what purpose?” Gou eyed the scale with trepidation.

“I’m not interested in keeping souls. I never was,” Rin answered.  “But life…” He closed his eyes again, and felt the immediate connection— it was like possessing a new set of senses. Even from high up here in this timeless place, Rin could distinctly smell the tang of blood, could feel the cool rush of water, could hear the exact way a prey’s heart ceased beating, crushed between rows of sharp teeth. It was an amazing feeling, being alive, even if only through a facsimile of it. He opened his eyes and grinned. “I’m very much interested in keeping lives.”

Gou looked troubled and Rin’s smile faltered a little.

“Gou…” he started hesitantly. “This is the first time I’ve ever held something from the mortal realm in my hands without killing it.” He bent down and took her hands in his.  “Don’t you see how important this is to me?”

“Of course I see it,” Gou whispered, and turned away from Rin’s gaze to look at Makoto’s mirror that hung above the kiln. If things went the way Rin initially thought it would, the mirror would’ve shattered by now, its splintered pieces being tempered under fire, ready to be remade into another life, another fate.  Instead, the cracked edges had disappeared, resetting to a whole mirror once more. “But what of the fate you said you would fix?”

“I am already changing it,” Rin replied. He thought about it at length, back in Haruka’s palace, with Makoto’s soul halfway carved into his skin. Haruka’s gamble threw him off. Rin expected resistance from Haruka, but not desperation.

Haruka, god of the seven seas and one of the most powerful forces in the universe, had been _desperate._ Desperate enough to cut himself off entire populations of his creatures to gain some borrowed time for one human.

It was a fool’s bargain no matter what angle one looked at it.

“I have not taken Makoto but I still have all rights to his soul. The only thing Haruka could do is pay me to borrow it for a little longer,” Rin explained further. He touched the scale tucked into his robes again and smiled, reminding himself of what it represented. “Essentially, I’d gain _everything_ by doing _nothing_.”

Refusing such an offer was impossible. Power gained through force was admirable, but power gained through inaction was genius.

Gou tilted her head inquiringly. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know,” Rin said, confident, and gestured at Haruka’s mirror. The tiniest crack could be seen curling on the outer edges, while Rin’s stayed whole.

~tbc~

 


	6. Love Deeper Than The Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably the cheesiest thing I've ever written in this fandom, so I hope you guys like it!

“Did you know that a great white shark can smell a drop of blood from a mile away?” Rin said conversationally, as he picked up another small bone and laced it through a long strand of a blue whale’s heartstring, fashioning a makeshift necklace to house his prize scale.

He had been spending a lot of time in the ocean lately, studying his new creature, observing their way of life. He learned many things: how sharks had very keen senses, how they can see in colour and even in dim light, how they could hear and smell potential prey from very far away. They were ferocious hunters, ones that suited Rin’s tastes, and it pleased him to know that he had chosen well.

When his sister did not answer for a long time. Rin prodded her. “Gou?”

“Why just a year?” Gou asked abruptly, not answering the question.

Rin paused in his work, and sat straight up, turning to look at his sister.

Gou was watching Haruka and Makoto from behind their respective mirrors. She had been doing that a lot lately. “Haruka gave you jurisdiction of an entire creature, and all its lifetimes to come,” she continued. “So why did you only give him a year?”

Rin was slightly offended. “He gave me one of more than a thousand of his creatures,” he answered, perhaps a tad too petulantly, and went back to crafting his necklace. “I gave him _time._ In terms of currency, I was the one being generous.”

“He gave you more than that,” said Gou. “That night you spared his human, Haruka gave you two things that no one has ever given you before.”

 Rin tilted his head in inquiry, not quite understanding. “He gave me a chance to hold onto a living creature. What is the other one?”

The bright orange glow of embers danced in Gou’s eyes, reflecting the eternal fire burning beneath her kiln,  forging new fates, new lives. Then she turned, not to look at Rin, but at the polished surface of the mirror that housed his fate. It was still smooth and whole, defying all reason for its continued existence.

“A choice.”

 

~~~

  
  


In the first year of Makoto’s borrowed life, Haruka taught Makoto to use his new body, and move like a true creature of the ocean. Makoto was a quick study; he learned fast, and delighted in his new anatomy, a monochrome structure of flesh and spine and rubbery skin crafted by Haruka’s very hands. He loved his new range of movement, his speed, how he can now race with the dolphins, and lift Haruka in his arms. In his new form, he was bigger than Haruka, his broad chest, sun-kissed skin and enormous tail exuding an air of tremendous power, as befitted the station of the ocean god’s chosen.

But for all his new abilities, Makoto never once strayed from the human qualities Haruka loved about him— he was powerful without inspiring fear,  and his kindness was beyond reproach.

“You’ve taken such good care of me,” Makoto said one day, as they lay tangled together on a bed of sea sponge, watching schools of colourful fishes swim by beneath the rippling sun.

“As I should.”

“I only wish that I could someday have the chance to take care of _you._ I’d like that,” said Makoto, as he stroked Haruka’s hair, which is splayed across his broad chest.

“I like your warmth. It soothes me,” Haruka replied. _Like your heartbeat,_ he didn’t say, because he didn’t want to remind Makoto of his mortality, and open up questions Haruka didn’t want to answer.

Makoto chuckled. “It’s all I can offer.”

“It is more than enough,” Haruka  assured him, and fanned his fingers along the flat plane of Makoto’s stomach,  absorbing more of that never-ending warmth.

“Haruka?”

“Yes?”

Makoto hesitated before speaking, and Haruka instinctively held him just a bit tighter. “I’ve been thinking about my life."

Haruka stiffened. “What about it?”

“Well, you know I’m mortal, and I’m going to die someday right?”

Haruka’s mood darkened instantly and he scowled. “I do not wish to talk about this,” he said, perhaps a bit too harshly, but Makoto just smiled, his apology on the curve of his lips, and shifted around so that Haruka lay beneath him.

“I know but listen.” For someone speaking about his death, Makoto sounded much too blithe. It was unsettling, but Haruka relented and did what Makoto asked.

“See, they tell us that humans have a soul and that it moves on, even after our death,” Makoto said. “And that soul is _eternal_.” His tail twined around Haruka’s and he surged forward, his face so close to Haruka’s that the ocean behind him disappeared, and all he could see was Makoto's gentle expression. “I know my soul will find you. And we'll be together, just like now.”

At that moment, Haruka felt something inside him break. He wanted to tell Makoto that that wasn’t how it worked, but Makoto’s eyes shone with such determination he couldn’t bear to let him know. So he simply reached up and kissed him, protecting him from the truths of this universe, and everything else that might damage the world he’s built for them, for _him._ Rin gave him a year, and Haruka needed to be ready.

The year passed quickly.

Haruka could not let Makoto go.

~~~

On the second year, Rin studied Haruka’s scales and selected the massive blue whale.

This time, Haruka was determined to make the most out of his time with his mortal love. And so he decided to recreate his domain, painting the ocean with Makoto’s colours, casting Makoto’s glow on everything that breathed.

Corals glowed with the dusty pink of Makoto's cheeks whenever Haruka pressed one of his rare smiles onto Makoto's own, signing his name across Makoto's lips.

The ocean sands, which used to be bone white, were given Makoto’s hair colour, a light golden brown.

The sea moss carried a touch of luminosity, similar to the ring around Makoto’s irises whenever Haruka pushed him against the sandbars of the southern isles, possessive fingers mapping out new territory on Makoto’s skin,  as they made love beneath the pale light of the gibbous moon.

Soon, wherever Haruka looked, he could see traces of Makoto in them. It was comforting, for it meant being surrounded by two things he loved most— water and Makoto.

He remembered Makoto’s firm belief that he will find a way to be with Haruka after his death. It was a sad but precious memory, and Haruka would have believed him, if only he did not know first-hand what awaited Makoto when the time came for Haruka to let him go.

At least this way, he’ll always be a part of Haruka’s ocean, an indelible mark that would continue to exist, even if the one it was made for could not outlive it.

 _Love is a constant act of creation_ , he thought as he turned his attentions towards the heart of his domain, his palace, and gave it the same treatment as he had the rest of his ocean. Being with Makoto has taught him that.

The transparent crystal spires were frosted with powdered pearl and deep sea minerals,  while the ocean floor was teeming with zostera seagrasses, Haruka’s attempt to recreate the “picnic lawns” Makoto described to him when he asked about stories of life on land. The crevices on the rocky walls were filled with multi-coloured algae, while corals of every colour adorned the canopy of his private chambers.

Makoto’s expression upon seeing Haruka’s handiwork was nothing short of wondrous joy.

"This place is yours as well as mine,” Haruka told him. He indulged Makoto with a kiss on the cheek, as he took Makoto’s hand. “So name it.”

Makoto drank in the new vibrancy of the sights surrounding him, like he couldn’t believe that Haruka would do all of this for him. He turned this way and that, swimming across the luminous hall, gazing up at the pearlescent spires, the golden brown sand banks, earthy colours blending beautifully with the ocean blue.

“Home,” he finally answered, and entwined his fingers with Haruka’s, the spaces between their fingers fitting perfectly against each other’s knuckles. “This is home.”

 

~~~

On the third year, Haruka gave Rin the sea serpents.

Afterwards, Haruka immediately conferred with Nagisa and Rei about human customs that Makoto would appreciate. They suggested a human token, one that symbolized an eternal promise (even though it is eternal for only one of them). Rei provided him the necessary material and Nagisa enthusiastically crafted it for him.

And so, on the dawn of the first day of the third year, he gave Makoto a gift, a ring made from brilliant star metal and forged in sun fire, topped with a lone black pearl to match the white one on Haruka’s finger.

Makoto’s eyes glistened, an unfamiliar substance layering an extra sheen on his eyes. Water, salt water that was not a part of the ocean. Haruka remembered that the last time not-sea-water sprung from Makoto’s eyes was when Haruka asked him to leave.

Haruka was alarmed. “Does it not please you?”

“It does!” Makoto turned towards him, the radiant glow of his face making Haruka feel like being bathed in summer sunshine. “In fact, it makes me so happy.”

Haruka was relieved. “Then what is that water leaking out of your eyes?”

“Oh these?” Makoto sniffed again, and smiled. “These are called tears. They come out when a human is experiencing extreme emotions. It’s called crying.”

“And you are crying because?”

“I told you, it's because I’m so happy.”

Haruka raised his hand and touched the corner of Makoto’s eye, distinguishing that one solitary drop of salt-water from the rest of his ocean.  “And what does it mean, to cry out of happiness?”

Makoto bit his lip, before boldly taking Haruka’s hand, and pressing his lips upon the white pearl of Haruka’s ring. “It means,” he started, raising his head to look at Haruka directly, his vivid green eyes so full of want and longing, that if Haruka had breath, it would be stolen from him, and finally whispered:

“There is an ocean inside me, and it longs to be ruled by _you_.”

Haruka’s fingers trailed Makoto’s lips, and gently, he rotated his wrist to cup Makoto’s cheek on the palm of his hand. Makoto leaned into his touch, still looking at Haruka with an intensity worthy of setting icebergs ablaze. Haruka moved his hand down, and with just the tip of his fingers, he lifted Makoto’s chin, and Makoto rose to meet him halfway, needing no words.

Haruka had faced powerful beings before, but they were nothing compared to this. Makoto’s mouth was hot beneath his, and Haruka felt like he was both burning and drowning, so intense was Makoto’s love for him that if he were not a god, he would struggle under the weight of it.  Makoto was soft and gentle in many ways, but his love was indestructible, deeper than the ocean, vaster than the open sky.

If Haruka was the ocean, Makoto was the shore; Haruka crashed and rolled against him, and Makoto welcomed him, absorbed and released him, steadfast and strong, as immutable as the laws that governed gravity and the universe. Neither could escape the other, and each one ended where the other began.

Or so Haruka wished. Haruka could save Makoto from Rin, from death, but he could not save him from the most powerful creature of all: _time_.

He reached for Makoto’s hand, fingers skittering down Makoto’s forearm, until his thumb found the pulse beating beneath the thin skin of Makoto’s wrist, a stark reminder that what they had was not infinite, that there would come a day when Makoto would no longer be on this plane, and Haruka would live on.

Yet he already knew that he could not let Makoto go.

 

~~~

 

And so began the fall of Haruka’s reign. Whenever the time came for Makoto to die, another scale from Haruka’s magnificent tail disappeared, to join Rin’s growing collection, as he once more traded a creature for a year of Makoto’s life.  One by one, Haru’s living scales broke away from him and turned the crimson shade of death, his power dwindling, with each creature Rin took from his realm.

Away from Makoto’s eyes, Haruka looked at his tail. Once the most beautiful shade of blue in the world, it is now a dull gray, similar to the shade of his favourite dolphins. The bargain stopped being his decision long ago. Rin never had to ask for Makoto’s soul, because Haruka would ask first which creature Rin wanted next.

Haruka couldn’t resent Rin, because the god of death, for all his cunning, had given Haruka many chances, more than he even thought he could get. Rin could’ve refused any time; he could’ve taken Makoto’s soul because he had all rights to it, could have denied him after the first year, the tenth or the hundredth.

But he didn’t. And so Makoto lived.

Absently, Haruka realized that he essentially gave up all his creatures to keep the one that was never his from the very start.

He realized too, that given the chance to change the past, he wouldn't. He'd do it all over again.

 

~~~

 

Rin looked at his collection of scales, crimson and glowing,  enough to create his own living tail. A tail that represented real creatures, and not some flimsy remnant of humanity that gave him nothing but fleeting memories of lives he could not live.  

Haruka was down to the very last of his creatures. Rin spared the dolphins for last, because he was not so cruel as to take away Haruka’s favoured creatures when there were others that would do just as well. Let it not be known that the god of death was not merciful.

In front of him, Makoto’s mirror cracked a little more, adding to the thousand veins running across the once unblemished surface. Beside it, Haruka’s mirror was in a similar state, though its pieces were a little brighter, shapelier, resembling a thousand tiny mirrors fitting like puzzle pieces together instead of a single mirror on the verge of shattering. Rin was still uncertain as to why Haruka even had one, for his sea creatures were only part of his dominion— the ocean as it stood would always belong to him, even when its subjects were no longer under his command.

He knew even less as to why he himself had one, for his own mirror never bore a single crack for the thousand years it hung on his sister’s halls.  

But this was Gou’s secret, and he respected that.

If there was anything Rin learned with this whole arrangement, it was that fate was earned, not given. Haruka earned that change in Makoto’s fate by giving Rin a choice, and Rin earned that change in his own fate by choosing life over death, making himself his own antithesis.

Gou was right, the choice Haruka had given Rin was as significant as the creatures he sacrificed to keep Makoto by his side. Rin almost felt guilty that it had to end soon.

Almost.

The rules were set, and Makoto had already lived for more than a thousand years, far more than any human had ever done. But it didn’t change the fact that his extended life was borrowed time, bargained on the principle of equivalent exchange, and Haruka had run out of payment.

And so, with a majestic sweep of his cloak, Rin stood up, took Makoto’s mirror, and carried it towards the center of Gou’s realm,  where the tireless fires burned,  hanging it above the kiln.

“ _Soon_.”

 

~tbc~

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ring scene has been illustrated by the talented [Natsui](http://natsui.tumblr.com) [here](http://gestahlt.tumblr.com/post/111763075650/what-is-that-water-leaking-out-of-your-eyes-oh), do check it out!


	7. Always Here

The creatures of the sea were plentiful, but they were not limitless. Soon, a year passed after Rin took the last scale - that of the dolphins, and with it, the last of Makoto’s borrowed days.

On the night before Makoto’s death, Haruka called Rin out to him. Rin was prompt to answer his call, appearing at the window of his palace. He looked so different now, so vivid and effervescent, in his tailor made garb of living scales. He was one of a kind, a supernatural paradox, the god of death who wrapped himself in the lives of the ocean’s inhabitants. He could feel the ocean as well as Haruka can now, for he was now the ruler of all who lived in it.

Before beginning his conversation with Rin, Haruka gazed at Makoto, who slumbered peacefully next to him, already more than a thousand years old, yet looking like he hadn’t aged a day since Haruka gave him his new body. His lightly freckled skin still had an innate radiance, his eyes had not lost their luster, and his heart still pumped ceaselessly in his chest, its steady beats now a countdown to the end, instead of the sound that had comforted Haruka for more than a millennia.

He reached out, and ran the pads of his fingers on the pulse on Makoto’s neck, assuring himself that it was still there. Then he lifted his gaze just enough to look at Rin, and spoke:

“How will he die?”

Rin looked surprised at the question. Perhaps he was assuming Haruka would bargain again, find a new way to spare Makoto’s life. Haruka couldn’t blame him. If he could find another way, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but he had already given up everything he had, and time had stolen the rest.

After a very short period, Rin appeared to recover from his initial surprise. “Do you remember that moment when you snatched your mortal away from my grasp?” he asked.

Haru remembered, even though it was more than a thousand years ago. There weren’t many things that escaped his memory, and this was one moment he would never forget: the scent of blood, winds howling on the surface, Makoto getting dragged down by debris.  It was the day he first saved and lost Makoto. The rest of what happened afterwards were a blur, but one thing was constant: he saved Makoto again and again, until it was no longer a question, until it was something that came naturally to him as the water that he could bend to his will.

But now,  it was time to lose him forever. It’s strange how safety was a fleeting thing, and loss was permanent.  With a heavy heart, he opened his eyes and looked straight at Rin. “Yes.”

Rin’s scarlet eyes gleamed like the swing of a newly forged blade.  “He was going to _drown._ ”

 

~~~

 

“I’m going to die soon, aren’t I?”

Haruka didn’t ask Makoto how he knew. He just pulled him closer, tucking his chin on Makoto’s head, pushing Makoto’s face into his chest, and holding on to him like he would disappear if Haruka let go.

Rin had given him until the break of dawn, and the night was fast fading.

“It’s been a thousand years. No human could live this long,” Makoto continued when Haruka didn’t respond. “But still, it’s as if it was just yesterday, when you kissed me to let me breathe where you are.”

“I can’t save you anymore.” The words were thick around Haruka’s tongue, heavy with sorrow.

“You don’t need to.” Makoto shifted so that he was lying next to Haruka, facing him. He was smiling serenely and Haru couldn’t understand why. “You remember what I said right? About how humans have souls that live forever?”

Haruka nodded, unable to do anything else, even as his chest was slowly emptied of hope, despite the conviction in Makoto’s words.

As if sensing his distress, Makoto reached up, fingers gliding along the curve of Haruka’s cheekbone until he was cradling the right side of Haruka’s face in his palm. “It won’t be the end. l will find you, beyond the skies that separate us.”

“The upper planes—“

“—Are not where I wish to go.”

“Not even a god can do what you wish to do.”

“I am not a god,” Makoto replied plainly, as if it was answer enough. He bent just a little bit forward until his forehead touched Haruka’s, until the ocean blurred around them and all Haruka could see was the soothing green of Makoto’s gaze. “Haruka, please.” He leaned even closer, until he was speaking against the ocean god's lips.  “Believe in me.”

Haruka wanted to, he wanted so much to believe that this was not the end, that Makoto, for all his human limitations, would find his way back to Haruka, in any shape or form.  He wanted to hear more reassurances, wanted to hear Makoto’s words again and again, until they became the only truth Haru knew .

And then the first rays of the sun pierced the water.

 

~~~

 

As the night slowly gave way to the day, stars scattered in the sky fading away from the sun, Gou checked  Makoto’s mirror, which bore so many cracks, it was almost impossible to see the reflective surfaces beneath it. Then she turned her gaze towards her brother, a lone figure crouched silently in the shadows of her mirrored halls, watching and waiting, honing his blade with a coarse stone.

“Did you know,” she said. “That some humans think of fate as a game? Like one of those card games they play, or their little lotteries.”

“Then they are even bigger fools than I initially pegged them to be.” Rin’s hands kept their methodical motions without missing a beat, even as his words teemed with repugnance. “All life ends with death. What kind of game has only one outcome?”

“Only _one,_ brother?”

“Only one,” Rin affirmed. “It’s been that way since the dawn of time, and it has not changed since. If life is a game, then the only sport they can get from it is how long they can make it last.”

“Would that make Makoto their champion then?” Gou  asked.

Rin let out a short bark of a laugh. “Champion? I don't think so,” he scoffed. “It stopped being his game the moment Haruka saved him. Haruka had owned his life after that, and any human game played by a god is a farce.”

"And yet Haruka still lost."

"He knew what he was getting into. I was not amiss in my warnings.”

"He's changed so much because of that human,” Gou mused. “And so have you."

Rin finally set his scythe down, his lips curling into a scowl. “That’s not true. Apart from acquiring new denizens under my jurisdiction, I have not changed at all."

Gou’s dark robes flared around her as she faced her brother head on. “Haven’t changed?" she repeated incredulously. "You are the god of death, and yet you cover yourself in living scales and human souls. You can live more than a thousand lives with just one touch of your tail. You can _feel_ human emotions because of the souls you've carried, and because of Haruka, you now know what it means to have a _choice._ "

Rin's grip tightened around the whetstone briefly, slightly resentful of the irritating truth in his sister's words. “He gave me a thousand of the same choice," he says after a while. 

“And you chose to spare his human every time." 

“For a price Haruka himself offered."

“The existence of a price doesn’t matter.” The fires beneath the kiln danced in Gou’s eyes, her mouth set in a straight line, and it occurred to Rin that he had never seen Gou like this, the taint of agitation breaking her ironclad neutrality. It was alarming. “You knew he was supposed to die. And yet year after year, you chose to keep him alive.” Her voice turned softer, like dead petals falling on snow. “Haruka couldn’t change his fate if you did not allow it.”

“I am still going to claim the human’s soul, aren’t I?” Rin replied, his tone coming off as supplication, not knowing why but wanting to appease his sister all the same.  “It doesn’t matter how long he took. In the end, he will still die.”

At this, Gou fell silent and she turned away abruptly, going back towards the cracked mirror hanging above the kiln. Rin stared at the slender curve of her back, wondering if there was something he was forgetting, for Gou’s words were seldom empty. But just as Rin was about to speak again, the hall was suddenly filled with light, as all the mirrors reflected the sun peeking over each horizon.

Gou finally spoke. “Go on. You waited more than a thousand years for this,” she said quietly, giving no indication of continuing their previous conversation. Her figure was straight, back to its usual composure.

As intrigued as Rin was with the way their conversation ended, he decided not to press. He had a duty to perform, one that had been a long time coming. He waited more than a thousand years to claim one soul; he could surely wait a few more hours to contemplate the meaning of his sister’s words.

“Yes,” he said. Slowly, he rose up, taking his freshly whetted blade with him, and began to walk towards the sheer drop at the edge of his sister’s realm. Beneath the midnight folds of his cloak, his skin was pale and clear, devoid of any other presence. Gou got some things right— Haruka's human was special, and so Rin will make his reaping special as well. Everyone else can live another day, for today, the god of death shall take only that one soul and its thousand years’ worth of memories.

He stepped into the very edge, his face slowly becoming illuminated by the rising sun. Even the dawn was different today, rising crimson instead of gold, rendering a sky that seemed to bleed into the ocean.

His wings unfurled like a rose in bloom, dark feathers and silver bones spreading towards an infinite sky. Then he tipped forward, letting himself fall into the red waters below him.

It was time.

  
~~~

 

“There’s a saying from my human land,” Makoto continued. “The only time you truly die is when someone says your name for the last time. I won’t die as long as you still remember.”

The water vibrated with a sad melody, haunting echoes that resonated across the ocean, and Haruka realized that it was a song. The ocean's song. His gaze went back to Makoto, and he had never seen that smile so bright, like a supernova, a star at its most brilliant before it had to die. That’s when Haruka realized Makoto could hear the song too.

“Haruka.” Makoto’s voice was strong, and his green eyes shone, tears flowing freely— the ocean inside of him spilling out. “If there is only one thing you learn from me, let it be this. _I love you._ Never think for a second that I was never yours, simply because I did not come from the sea. Belongingness is a choice, not an origin. And I choose to belong with you. Even now. So please.” He took Haruka’s hand and held it to his chest, squeezing.  “ _Believe_ in me.”

Haruka had no tears to shed. He wished he did. Or perhaps the entire ocean was his tears. He did not know. All he had was a void inside him so terrible, to call it pain would be a blessing. Once he had the power of all life in the ocean, bending massive creatures to his will.

And now, he could not even keep the one creature he gave up everything for.

Above them, the clouds parted as the sun fully rose above the horizon, and instantly, Makoto’s hands flew to his throat, choking, his body convulsing, the water that had sustained him for so long now killing him.

Haruka couldn’t bear to see him like this. He would not let him drown. _No more pain. Rest._ “I love you,” he whispered, and between his fingers, a silver blade of pure liquid formed. Compressed water could cut through steel, and it was with ease that it cleanly pierced Makoto’s heart.

Makoto’s eyes went wide for a split second before mellowing back to its usual downward curve, the pain dissipating from his face like vapour. Slowly, the corner of his lips turned up, his entire face aglow with something that can only be _gratefulness._

At that moment, Haruka realized that that was the last time he would ever see Makoto’s smile, and it hit him like a tidal wave, absolute and devastating, the promise of nothing but destruction in its wake.

And then Makoto closed his eyes, smiling still, and Haruka knew he was no more.

In front of his eyes, Makoto’s body slowly dissolved into the sea foam from which it was created. Haruka could no sooner grasp it as he could grasp the rest of the ocean. Makoto was gone. In a blink of an eye. Just like that.

They said that love came from the heart. A god had no need for one, being immortal, but as Haruka heard the distant sound of something shattering, glittering shards flying into a fathomless abyss, he surmised that perhaps Makoto gave him a heart the day he was reborn in Haruka’s ocean, and now, it died with him.

                                                         

 ~~~

 

Rin didn’t expect Haruka to act like he did, but he wasn’t surprised anymore. Until the very end, Haruka took charge of Makoto’s fate.

But it didn’t matter to Rin how Makoto died, for he was only responsible for what happened after. And so the god of death moved quickly and took Makoto’s soul, grafted it on his chest, on the left, where a human heart ought to be, on the same place Haruka struck to end Makoto’s suffering.

He placed his fingers on the soul seared into his body. It was warm beneath his touch. He looked at Haruka, frozen in his place, still staring at the spot where Makoto died, and felt something he never felt before. Something he didn’t understand, something that made him want to ease Haruka’s suffering, even if it wasn’t his place to do so.

“The ocean mourns for your mortal Haruka,” Rin offered, after a brief hesitation, and was surprised with his own boldness. “I can hear it.”

Haruka took a long time to lift his head up and look at Rin. And when he did, his eyes were so _empty_ , devoid of hope; his grief so great, it was inexpressible. “But what will it take,” he whispered, “…to make it mourn for _me?_ ”

Rin didn’t know how to answer that. He was accustomed to hearing humans wishing death upon humans, but never had he imagined a god to wish death upon himself. So he said nothing and turned away. This wasn’t his fault. Haruka brought this on to himself when he made that bargain. All Rin had ever done was give Haruka what he asked for.

Makoto’s soul thrummed within his chest, and Rin was reminded of duties he still had to do.

“I have to go,” he told Haruka, who went back to staring at the spot where Makoto died. “I need to bring Makoto to the upper planes.”

“Will he be happy there?” Haruka asked, his voice flat and dull.

Rin paused in his tracks, and turned around. “All mortals are happy to be where Makoto would be,” he answered.

He didn’t miss the way Haruka’s fists clenched, or the tremors that shook his lithe body, but there was nothing Rin could do for him now. He made the rules clear, and he only exacted payment.

With one last look at the ocean god, he turned tail and swam away, taking Makoto’s soul with him.

As he swam towards the shimmering sun above the surface, he remembered his conversation with Haruka a very long time ago, back when Rin first discovered that it was Haruka’s interference that saved Makoto from his fated death. He remembered then that he told Haruka that when he finally came to take Makoto’s soul from him, Rin would enjoy it.

He did not.

~tbc~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	8. Words That Changed My Life

Haruka watched the god of death leave with Makoto’s soul, his ocean form now carrying Haruka’s scales, turned red like his hair. He wanted to swim after Rin, fight him, tear Makoto’s soul out of his skin and keep it away, infuse it in himself if he needed to, if he could. But he couldn’t move, not while the sea foam hadn’t faded away into nothing yet, not while there were still traces of Makoto to touch and breathe.

He didn’t know what he was feeling. He supposed this might be what humans called _emptiness._ It was as if someone turned off the sun in Haruka’s life. He had nothing left to his name, save for the endless blue waters of his ocean, now a dark, cold place, lacking lives he could connect with, lacking warmth, lacking _heart._

He understood now, what Rei had meant all those years ago, back in that cove near the sea shore, before he bound Makoto to him for a thousand years.

_"Human love is as dangerous as it is beautiful. You will want all his angles, his perpendicularity. You’ll find beauty in the curve of his spine, on the lines of his body, and the hue of his eyes. It is in this way that you will still remember the intimate way he touched you, even when he is long gone, and you are merely chasing his ghost.”_

He looked at the diminishing remains of the sea foam, rapidly disappearing to nothing, becoming one with the ocean blue, leaving not even a single trace of a tangible memory. It was just like Rin said.

_“His love for you will die with him and he will leave you with nothing but a memory. It is not his presence but his absence that will destroy you.”_

Makoto was gone, his creatures were gone, and now Haruka had _nothing_. Unable to take it anymore, he turned away, intending to leave this place and never return.

But then, something caught his eye. He whipped around, back at the spot where Makoto died. 

At the heart of the dissipating foam, something bright and green glimmered.

 

~~~

 

Rin broke through the ocean’s surface and discarded his tail fins for wings of bone and black feathers, rising to the sky like a bird of prey.

Beneath his chest, Makoto’s soul thrashed and Rin had to fight to keep it from consuming him from the inside. He didn’t understand why he was having so much trouble like this— he had grafted as many as a hundred souls on his body at one time and yet Makoto’s single soul threatened to drive him mad. Makoto's thousand years worth of memories were so intense and powerful, they would bring Rin to his knees were he a lesser god.

What he felt was not pain—Makoto’s soul was too pure, too radiant to cause him something so base, but it was powerful, absolute, leaving Rin staggering under the weight of it.

He soared higher, passing through the clouds, rising to an invisible zenith beyond the sky. Finally, after a time that seemed far too long , Rin reached the gate and stairs that led to the upper planes, the place where souls were released. The place where souls can look back and relive their memories for the last time, for once they pass the gate, they remove all their binds to the earth. Some souls barely stayed, others took take their time, but ultimately, they always walked through that gate, never looking back. Rin never had to make sure that they did, because it was human nature to seek happiness no matter what.

Rin reached the steps, and it was with relief that he released Makoto’s soul from his body, ripping it from his skin with a power he didn’t even know he had.

Before Rin, Makoto’s soul wavered before slowly assuming his original human shape. Light formed into the illusion of flesh and bone, of hair and fabric, until Rin could see Makoto as he was, on the night he was supposed to die with the rest of his ship. 

Makoto turned around, and Rin found himself staring into the eyes of the soul he waited to claim for a thousand years.

 

~~~

 

Haruka’s eyes widened as the light floated nearer. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was the ring he gave to Makoto on their third year together.

The pearl of the ring flattened and stretched, turning into a familiar shape— that of a scale. It was cool to the touch, and unlike Haruka’s lost scales, which were pure blue, it held the same colour as the sea, a mix of green and blue.

At that very moment, he remembered Makoto’s words.

_"There is an ocean inside me that longs to be ruled by you.”_

" _When you pour your energy into what you love, you create something out of it.”_

_"It has many expressions, many forms. “_

It was then that Haruka heard the call of the sea. He turned around.

He saw the black and white creature for the first time, but it was as if he’d known it forever. Larger than a dolphin, smaller than a whale, exuding both gentleness and power, the new creature approached Haruka, making clicking sounds, a familiar language that Haruka understood almost immediately.

_You are not alone._

 

~~~

 

Haruka’s mortal had an exquisite soul, weathered by time and long hours basking in the attention of one of the most powerful gods in existence.

Like the mirrored hallways of Fate’s realm, the Edge of the Earth was a timeless place. It was where souls were stripped of their earthly memories, removing their binds to the earth so that they may spend forever in eternal happiness with the rest of the souls in the upper planes. This place didn’t have a fixed shape or form; it didn’t have an end or a beginning, only a reflection of the soul it was temporarily harbouring.

Makoto’s soul world reflected a beach, swathed in a warm orange glow, from a sun perennially stuck halfway past the horizon, the picture of an eternal sunrise. Rin took a step into his world, feeling the phantom roughness of sands seeping through his silver sandals. When he closed his eyes, he could hear waves crashing.

Makoto stood at the coastline, staring out into his soul-ocean. Rin approached him slowly, and followed Makoto when he sat down at the edge of the shore, stretching his legs in front of him.

Makoto inclined his head towards Rin, with a smile that shouldn’t be there. “Hello,” he greeted cordially.

Rin had no choice but to respond in a like manner. “Hello,” he returned.

“You are Rin, the god of death, right?” Makoto asked.

“Yes.”

Makoto’s smile glowed even brighter. “Could you keep me company for a little while?”

To say that Rin was startled was an understatement. Makoto’s casual words, jolting him out of millennia of tradition, echoed in his head, unfamiliar, intriguing. In all his years serving in his role, no one one smiled at him, and no one asked for his company. 

Curious, Rin found himself agreeing. “Alright,” he said, and walked towards the patch of sand beside Makoto. He folded his robes and sat down. The ocean was cold everywhere, and yet when Rin dipped his feet in the waters near Makoto, it was pleasantly warm.

For a short while, neither of them spoke, content in watching the calming waves of Makoto’s soul-ocean, bathing in false sunlight, cool celestial winds brushing against Rin’s face.

“You’ve lived for a very long time,” said Rin, breaking the silence.

Makoto kept staring at the waters. “It didn’t feel like I did.” 

“You have,” Rin answered. “Far longer than what you were supposed to.”

“I know.” Makoto put a finger to his lips, looking wistful. Then once more, he did something that no human soul had ever done before. He reached over, and grasped Rin’s hand. His touch was warm, like his smile, like everything else about him. “I want to thank you,” he said. His tone was grateful, but his smile was sad, like it was hiding a great terrible pain. “For allowing me to spend so much time with him.”

Again, the god of death was shocked. No one thanked him. No one willingly reached over to touch his hand. No one smiled at him. He was death, the end of all life. He did nothing but destroy.

For once, Rin was at a loss as to what to do.

“There is no need to thank me,” Rin finally said after a few moments, finding his voice. “You need to ascend to the upper planes.” He lifted his hand and pointed at the steps. “Go. You deserve this.”

Makoto’s eyes crinkled around the corners, and shook his head, hugging his knees to his chest. “I don’t think I belong there.”

Rin frowned. Makoto was surprising him more with each word that came out of his mouth. “I don’t think you have any other choice.”

Makoto remained unfazed. “Don’t I?”

Rin narrowed his eyes. Makoto was getting too brazen with his incessant challenging of the order of Rin’s world. Perhaps it was a mistake to be so lenient with him. “Where else do you think you can go?”

Makoto averted his eyes back at the waters and then stood up, gesturing for Rin to follow him. Rin would normally be angered at the presumption that a god as powerful as him would stoop so low as to follow a mere human soul’s whims, but his curiosity won over his pride this time. Even after his death, Makoto remained a catalyst of change in Rin’s world.

And so, with these thoughts, Rin followed Makoto, and they walked a bit further where the froths of the waves gathered. As they walked, Rin was stunned to realize that the sea foam slowly blended into clouds— Makoto’s ocean giving way to the sky. What’s more, looking further down, he could see the real ocean of the earth. Makoto’s soul reflected the ocean that Haruka ruled, the two of them separated by the sky. 

Makoto kept his gaze down and whispered, “I want to go back.”

Rin shook his head, surmising as much. “You can’t leave this place without me. And I won’t let you.”

Makoto looked hurt, and Rin was surprised with how much that affected him. He cursed the human emotions that lingered in his body, and how they always came up at the most inopportune times. “Then, can I stay here until I can find a way to?” Makoto asked instead, refusing to give up.

Rin stared back at him. “You belong in the upper planes.”

“I don’t belong anywhere I don’t want to be.”

Rin recalled the words: _Belongingness is a choice, not an origin._ It was what Makoto told Haruka, before Haruka drove his blade through Makoto’s heart. But such words were not applicable here. There was only one place where souls had ever gone before. _There are rules_ , echoed in his mind, but they didn’t seem to be very convincing.

“You can’t,” Rin insisted, ignoring his doubts, because what did he have left to fall back on if not the force of tradition? “You need to move on.”

“Does death truly only move in one direction?”

Rin was growing increasingly agitated. Makoto was troublesome. Asking questions, making Rin’s job difficult. He never had to convince anyone to move on before.

But Makoto was no ordinary human. He’d been plucked out of the earth and pulled into the ocean to live for more than a thousand and seventeen years, loved a god who loved him in turn. If humans were shaped by their experiences and memories, was Makoto still human for living in the company of gods? Was this why Rin was having so much trouble convincing him to do what humans should do?

Rin followed Makoto’s gaze once more, eyes landing on Haruka’s ocean. He saw Haruka breaking the surface, staring at the sky. Even from so high up, it was impossible to miss the longing in his eyes, like he wanted to leave his dominion and fly to where he knew Makoto to be, and Rin marvelled at the irony of an ocean god who wished for wings.

Rin wrenched his gaze away with great difficulty. “Why are you doing this?” he asked Makoto instead. “Beyond that gate lies happiness you can never imagine.”

“I prefer the happiness I don’t need to imagine,” Makoto answered, and knelt down, touching his ocean, his hand never making it past the sky. His sorrow was so great, it made his form waver, as if it couldn’t contain it. The sun in this false world dimmed, the light seemingly tied to the brilliance of Makoto’s soul, now growing dark, dulled by immeasurable despair.

“But this causes you nothing but pain,” Rin tried again.

“It does. But I’d rather hurt and remember him, than spend forever in a place where I do not even know his name.”

Rin had never been so confused by a soul before. How could anyone love someone so deeply they’d rather be miserable than forget them? Humans made the most terrible choices, and Rin couldn’t understand it.

The light of the upper plains lay just beyond them.

And yet Makoto turned his back to it, choosing to stay in the dark.

 ~tbc~

 


	9. Hope

Makoto didn’t climb the steps to the upper planes— and Rin couldn’t convince him to, not for lack of trying. Rin was perfectly aware of how stubborn humans could be, but that had only been applicable to the living; this is the first time he’s ever had to deal with a soul.

It was maddening and fascinating at the same time. Even after his own death, Makoto thwarted him, gently refusing to do what was expected of him, of what was expected of all souls. It was only now that Rin was realizing that the rules he had followed for so long were not without their flaws.

The rules only stated that souls _could_ enter the upper planes after their time on Earth. Nowhere did they state that they _must_. For millennia, Rin had herded souls up these stairs, never considering that they had any other choice. Until now.

But, looking back now, perhaps flawed wasn’t the right word. There was a turn of phrase among humans, most often used by scoundrels and lawyers alike, to circumvent rules rather than outright breaking them. _Bending the rules_. Bending, implying flexibility.

That’s right. The rules were not so much flawed as they were flexible and it took Rin this long to realize that there were other ways to interpret them. Makoto, despite spending more than a millennium with Haruka in the ocean, was still human at his very core, and he had carried his human traits with him even after he died.

Then there was Rin himself. Rin was the only one who restricted himself to what he was used to, what he had been doing. He stuck to a specific set of guidelines, and didn’t stray beyond. He didn’t desire change, for he didn’t think it possible.

It was only when Haruka unintentionally thwarted him that the rigid path of his duties diverged to unknown roads.  When Haruka struck his bargain and gave Rin a choice, to trade life for time, his worldview further expanded, apart from the scope of his power. He had known no other way of life other than to kill and transfer souls. Before Haruka, his only company had been his sister, and now he had all the life of the ocean under his command. All this, because of one human.

He had underestimated Makoto because of his mortality. It was a humbling discovery, to know that there were still some things he could learn from humans, even after their death. If only Rin had the luxury of time, he would love to explore this more.

But he didn’t. He was responsible for lives too now. He had other duties to fulfil, other souls to reap, sea creatures to look over.

And so, with one last fleeting glance on Makoto’s hunched form, he flew away and left the upper planes to return to his sister's mirrored halls to retire for the day.

Gou was staring intently at a mirror in her hand when Rin stepped into their shared realm.

“You got what you wanted,” Gou said without preamble.

Rin paused for a brief moment before resuming his walk. “I did.” He headed straight to the corner of the hall that housed his scythe and his prized scales, shimmering in a large enamel bowl carved from a sperm whale’s skull. “He didn’t enter the upper planes though,” he added as an afterthought.

“I know. But it doesn’t change the fact that you finally got his soul.” Gou gently ran a piece of cloth along the polished surface of the mirror in her hands, still not looking at Rin. “Are you happy?”

Rin wondered where his sister was going with this. This line of questioning was unusual—Gou wasn’t one for discussing Rin’s duties after he had completed them. She wouldn’t be able to move on to fates of other humans if she kept hanging on to those who have already passed away. “I am neither happy or unhappy,” he replied slowly. “I only did what I must. Happiness is not a part of it.”

Gou hummed. “Well that’s unfortunate. It might have been worth it, if you were happy.”

Rin looked up sharply. “Worth what?”

Gou said nothing at first, staring off into the kiln, the everlasting fire making the scarlet of her eyes glow orange. Her expression was studiously neutral, as if she was considering her answer very carefully. It gave Rin chills, a sensation similar to what humans would identify as dread, and the very notion of it was preposterous. He was the god of death; he was usually the _source_ of dread.

The feeling only intensified when Gou stood up, walked towards him, and wordlessly handed the mirror in her hands over to Rin.

Rin stared at it, recognizing the mirror as his own.

Except now, in the middle, there was a long, jagged crack.

 

~~~

 

Haruka’s new creature possessed the makings of both a dolphin and a whale. It had the playful temperament and intelligence of his beloved dolphins and the power and sturdiness of their more massive brethren. It also possessed a hunter’s instinct that could be further explored, if Haruka let its ferocity run free. 

Haruka decided to call it and their species _orca_ , which meant “little whale.”

As the sole creature left under his power, he was terribly protective of it. He helped it hunt for food, coddled it, never let it out of his sight. He gave it _everything_.

Eventually however, the orca found a mate. Seeing his precious creature interact with others of his own kind filled Haruka with warmth and fondness, knowing that Makoto’s legacy would be repopulating his ocean, with creatures he could rule again. 

Yet, the sight of the orca being happy also made him wistful— the orca had its own family to build now, and Haruka would have to let it swim free, let it make its own mark in the ocean. He could hardly begrudge it to follow the natural order of things.

But he couldn’t help the pang of loneliness, knowing that he was no longer its sole companion.

He missed Makoto so much. Seeing the orca now, happily interacting with its mate only reinforced the fact that no matter how much it reminded him of his human, it could never fill the void Makoto’s absence left in his existence.

Still, the orca was a creature Makoto practically created with him, even if unintentional, and Haruka would protect it with everything he had, even as it moved on to concern itself with its own kind. At least this way, he still had something to take care of, while he waited for Makoto to find him again, as he promised.

 

~~~

 

Each time Rin returned to deliver more souls to the upper planes, he’d see Makoto in his soul space, watching and waiting. Sometimes, he walked along the shore, sometimes he floated in the sky. Occasionally, when he looked up at the right time, he’d catch Rin on his way in. On those times, Makoto would smile and wave, and Rin would nod in acknowledgement before going back to his duties.

Sometimes though, when Makoto looked a little sadder than usual, Rin would allow himself to talk to him. It always made Makoto smile when Rin would do this, and if Rin was to be completely honest with himself, he enjoyed the fact that for once in his existence, a human was always happy to see him, even if the human in question was dead. Makoto’s smiles were always full of heart, something he no longer possessed, yet it shone from every curve of his incorporeal face.

Makoto liked to talk a lot. He told Rin about his family, how his father was a merchant of books and maps, how his mother cooked the most delicious green curry, how his twin siblings always asked him to read them a story before bed. He told Rin about his teachers, about Goro, who taught him how to swim, and Miho, who taught him how to read. He told him about his dear friend Kisumi, who had sugar spun hair, candy smiles, and a ready bag of chocolate to share with Makoto.

Most of all, he told Rin about Haruka. And his stories ran deep and endless as the ocean where they took place.

Rin wondered how it was possible to love so many things, how it was possible that a muscle the size of a fist could contain so much emotion and empathy. He learned more about humans from Makoto than he did from all the time he had been passing through their world. 

Always, at the end of his stories, Makoto asked Rin what could be done to reunite with Haruka.

Always, Rin would not reply, and that would be his cue to leave. 

Always, Rin would return to the place of scattered mirrors, and his own would have a newly formed splinter. 

He couldn’t understand why. Nothing he did stopped it; even on days where he didn’t speak with Makoto, the cracks came, slowly and steadily, tiny rivulets racing across the polished surface.

“It’s not stopping,” he said for the hundredth time. The mirror’s smooth edges had grown rough and jagged over the years Rin had spent clutching them. They cut into his hands now. He didn’t bleed, but it didn’t mean he didn’t hurt. “What am I doing _wrong?_ ”

Gou took the mirror from his hands before Rin could cut himself on them any further. It cut into her own hands instead but she didn’t flinch. She waited for Rin to look up at her. When he did, her eyes were full of an emotion Rin couldn’t quite place, only that he knew that it was making Gou hurt more than the jagged shards piercing her hands. She held Rin’s gaze for a few moments more, before finally speaking. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

She turned around and walked back to her kiln, but not before whispering:

“You’re just not doing anything differently.”

 

~~~

 

The years went by, yet there was still no sign of Makoto. His kingdom hadn’t changed much, despite their new ruler. For what it’s worth, Rin had been kind to the creatures Haruka had surrendered to him. Perhaps even kinder than Haruka himself— at least the Haruka before Makoto.

He never crossed paths with Rin however, and he was unsure if this was intentional or not. But it was for the best. The image of Rin siphoning Makoto’s soul through his scythe stilled burned in his memory, and he could not trust himself to act rationally should Rin come into his sight again.

On the seventh year, Haruka stared at the pod of orcas playing in the distance and realized that they no longer gave him joy.

Distraught, cold, and lonely, he let himself sink down to the deepest corners of his ocean, where the waters were darkest, like the empty void inside him.

Makoto was not coming back.

Haruka couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

 

~~~

 

_"You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re just not doing anything differently.”_

Rin mulled over Gou’s words as he went back to Makoto’s soul space. Today, he will do something different. He didn’t know why but he just knew the answer would be with Makoto.

He remembered something he said to his sister before, when Haruka gave him his very first creature.

_“I’ll gain everything by doing nothing. Power gained through inaction is genius.”_

Now the reverse was happening. Now, inaction had led him to atrophy, to attrition. His inaction was causing his gradual destruction and he didn’t even have the luxury of knowing _how_. At least Haruka had a tangible measurement for the dwindling of his power. Rin had nothing except for the increasing veins on the mirror he shouldn’t even have.

Gou’s mirrors always shattered in the end, and Rin knew that his would too, however impossible and outrageously ironic it would seem. Somehow, he had already accepted this, but he would not accept never finding out _why._  

The light of the upper plains was still inviting him in, yet Makoto stubbornly kept his back to it, choosing the darkness, choosing the ocean beneath his sky. Rin had never met anyone who turned away from the light to long for uncertainty. To choose anything else was unthinkable. What was there to be gained by shunning eternal happiness and spending eternity in pain? Nothing.

“There had only ever been one way,” he mused out loud, as he took his usual place beside Makoto on the beach.

“One way?”

“One way for souls to go,” Rin clarified.

As expected, Makoto looked down, his eyes filled with great sadness once more. He curled in tighter around himself, as if suddenly struck with a cold wind, which was impossible since he no longer had a physical body to feel cold. “I know that,” he muttered. “You’ve told me so many times already.”

Rin stared straight ahead, at the faux ocean waves lapping against his sandals, erasing phantom footprints on the sand. “I have, haven’t I? But lately, I’ve been wondering why.”

Makoto stirred beside him, head still bent, but Rin could tell he was interested in hearing what else Rin had to say. So Rin continued.

“No one questioned me before,” Rin explained. “I brought souls here because that was my responsibility, and they chose to do what was expected of them. That is the natural order of things. But…”

He paused, and finally turned to look at Makoto, who turned to meet his gaze at the same time.

“But what?” Makoto whispered. Even as a non-physical entity, his expressions were still so stark on his face. Even until now, it flabbergasted Rin to know that Makoto never stopped hoping.

“I’ve forgotten one of the fundamental elements of being human,” Rin answered, and allowed himself a soft smile. “Something even I couldn’t take away.” 

“And what is that?”

Rin closed his eyes for the briefest of moments before opening them to look straight into Makoto's own piercing gaze. “Making choices.”

At that moment, the sun in Makoto’s soul space blazed, and Rin saw Makoto’s true smile again for the first time in so long.

 

~~~

 

Haruka lay down on the beach where he found Makoto, letting the waves lap at his tail. It was so dry on land, the rough sands scraping against his back, the sun rays piercing in their heat. He had been coming to this place every day, just staring at the sky, staring at the sun. Maybe if he stared hard enough, he’d melt or evaporate, become dust in the air. Dust could fly. Maybe if he became dust, the wind could carry him past the sky to where Makoto was.

He looked at his hand, at the star metal and pearl ring he never took off, crafted by the gods of the sun and stars.

Then he looked up at the sky again. Somewhere out there, Makoto was watching him. Unless he’d moved on to the upper planes and forgotten about Haruka. Forgotten about his promise.

He squeezed his eyes shut. It was the possibility that he had been ignoring for so long. But every year that passed made fooling himself even harder.

“Hey.”

Haruka turned his head lazily, and saw the sun god sitting beside him, perched on a large rock on the sand.

“I’ve been watching you come to this beach every morning and stare at the sky all day,” said Nagisa, a hint of playful teasing in his voice. “If you keep this up, Rei will be jealous that you’re not paying his skies as much attention.”

It was a light-hearted jab, but Haruka could see the underlying concern in the sun god’s demeanour. Was he really so obvious now?

“Nagisa,” he said, and turned his gaze back to the clouds in the sky. “What do you know of the upper planes?”

“Hmm?” Nagisa hopped off the rock and laid down beside him on the sand, close enough for their shoulders to touch. “Well, it's a place where human souls go. Some people call it heaven. Some call it paradise. It’s a place of eternal happiness.”

“Where is it?”

“Somewhere out there, beyond the sky.”

“Have you been there?”

“No.”

“ _Could_ you go there?”

“I haven’t tried.”

Haruka knew it was foolish to wish for anything but he couldn’t let that one feeble flame of hope inside him die. “If you could, could you bring me there with your wings?”

Nagisa gazed at him with sad jewel eyes, which looked so unnatural on the golden circle of his face. “Oh Haruka, even if I could, you cannot enter the upper planes,” he said gently. “That is a place reserved for human souls.”

Haruka looked away. Of course. The answer was something he expected but it still crushed him to hear the words from someone else. “I see. Do you not know of any other way?”

Nagisa shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Haruka replied, keeping his disappointment out of his voice. _It’s not your fault that I am helpless._

The sun god wasn’t fooled. “Don’t give up, ocean god,” he said, smiling reassuringly. He fetched a handful of sand from the beach, and blew into it, sun flames dancing in his palm. Within seconds, the sand was crystallized, and soon, there was a circular piece of glass where the handful of grains used to be. He handed it to Haruka.

Haruka took it. It was smooth, cool to the touch, shining bright from the sun in Nagisa’s smile. “What is this for?”

Nagisa made a humming sort of noise, and scooted closer to rest his cheek on Haruka’s shoulder. “For someone who _can_ help you.”

Brow furrowed, Haruka looked at the glass again. It glimmered once, light still caught in the edges, before showing his reflection.

 

~~~

“There is a catch though,” Rin said, though this did nothing to curb Makoto’s joy. “You may make your choice but they are still subject to the rules of my dominion, of death. That is something I cannot change.”

Makoto leaned towards Rin, still smiling. “What rule is this?”

“Equivalent exchange,” Rin answered. “For me to bring you back, I will need a corresponding payment.”

Makoto nodded, and boldly took Rin’s hands in his. His enthusiasm bled through Rin, filling him with incredible warmth. “I will pay you whatever you want.”

Rin looked at their joined hands and smiled ruefully. Makoto’s joy was overwhelming but his choice would be a difficult one. Most important choices were. “But Makoto… you are a soul,” he reminded gently. “You are but a collection of memories. What can you give to get what you want?”

Makoto didn’t even flinch. “Isn’t it obvious? I will give myself. My memories.”

Rin was surprised with the ease with which Makoto answered him. “But if you give up your memories, you won’t even remember Haruka.”

Makoto shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if I don’t remember him. I will find him again,” he said softly. He turned towards his soul ocean again, a faraway look in his eyes. “And then I will make new memories.”

“The world is vast, Makoto. You could travel the world your whole life and never even cover a tenth of it. How can you be so sure that you’ll even meet him in your next lifetime?”

Makoto looked back at Rin, the determination still blazing in his eyes. “I’m not. But if there is one chance, in a million, a hundred million, or even a billion, that I can see him again, I will take it.”

“Why? Such small, infinitesimal hope can only lead to failure.”

“And yet it is always a failure to never even hope just once.”

Rin was struck with the sincerity of Makoto’s words, and the deep, relentless longing that laid therein. He was blindingly dazzling, conviction and pure will resonating from him like the rays of the sun.

In the end, it was Makoto who decided his own fate. Rin was wrong to assume that humans ended with their death. Humans were flawed, sometimes wretched things, but Makoto had made Rin realize that the impossible could be created, even by imperfect beings.

Rin raised their joined hands to his chest, and finally made peace with what he was about to do.:

“If that is so, then I propose a bargain.”

 

~~~

Haruka took the mirror back to his palace. The place looked neglected, the sea grass grown wild and unruly, the corals overflowing their bounds. He hadn’t come back to it for such a long time.

He sat on his throne, now overgrown with sea moss, and held the mirror up in his hand. “I would like to talk to you, Gou, Goddess of fate,” he enunciated clearly.

A moment later, the mirror wavered, like ripples across still water, and before long, Haruka saw the face of the goddess of fate, pale skin and luminous red eyes, hair the colour of wine. She looked every bit like her brother, save for the lack of sharp teeth.

 “It’s nice to finally meet you, Haruka. My brother has spoken much about you,” Gou greeted kindly.

Haruka didn’t know much about matters outside his ocean, but he knew enough that Gou was not surprised with his call. Bravely, he spoke again. “Nagisa said that you could help me.”

“Nagisa says many things he ought not to say,” Gou sighed, her mellow voice tinged with fond exasperation. “But alright then. Tell me what you want, ocean god,”

Haruka bit his lip. If he had a heart it would be pounding by now, the way Makoto’s heart seemed to slam into his ribs when Haruka kissed him, the way it seemed to try to beat out of his chest before Haruka drove a blade into it. His fingers trembled as he gripped the mirror. It cut into his hands, yet he did not bleed. He opened his mouth, and whispered:

“I want a soul.”

 

~tbc~


	10. Death and Rebirth

Through the small square of the mirror, Gou’s scarlet eyes lingered on Haruka, searching, though they contained no surprise, only resignation. “Do you know what you are asking for?” she asked calmly. 

“Yes,” Haruka readily answered. 

Gou hummed and tilted her head to the side. “Why do you want it?”

There was a discerning twinkle in Gou's eyes that told Haruka that Gou already knew the answer. Was this a test? To make Haruka admit to how far he had fallen, that he had resorted to such desperate measures unheard of in the realm of gods?

If so, then he would gladly comply. He had come to terms with his inexplicable, powerful feelings for Makoto long ago, more than a thousand years in fact. If the gods thought that this made him weak, made him worthy of mockery, made him ungodlike, then so be it. Haruka didn’t care. He was a free god who did as he wished. These other gods spent their time wasting away in monotonous administration of their given duties; their time was linear, moving only in one direction, unbending. Haruka would pity them, for he knew better.

They didn’t know what it meant to love somebody with one’s entire being. They didn’t know what it meant to feel the rush of a thrumming pulse beneath their lips, to weave lullabies out of heartbeats, to have someone change the _sound_ of their name. They didn’t know how it felt to dive ten thousand leagues beneath the sea and feel _fire_ on their skin, or to surrender themselves completely to someone who made them feel so real and _alive_ , that they'd know with a certain, aching clarity that something inside them would surely die, if they let that person go without a fight.

These only scratched the surface of what these gods would never know, for no words were enough to truly capture the breadth and depth of all the things Makoto made him feel. Mortality made everything more precious, because everything lasted, everything was fleeting.

“Makoto is in a place where I cannot follow in my current state,” he finally answered. “I wish to acquire a soul. Whatever it takes.”

Gou delicately lifted an old, severely cracked mirror, fingers gliding along the jagged edges. Her face was back to its usual blank state. “I see.”

“So will you give me one?”

“Only mortals have souls, Haruka,” Gou explained. “For you to acquire a soul, you have to die as a god and be reborn as a mortal.”

Haruka didn’t even hesitate. “Then so be it.”

Gou's eyes lingered on him again, almost unnerving Haruka with its directness. “You’re a very strange god, Haruka."

Haruka shook his head impatiently. “I no longer care about being a god," he said. "Will you do this for me?”

Gou nodded. “I can indeed send you to a mortal vessel. However…” She turned away towards her kiln, and from this distance, Haruka heard the sound of glass shattering. “I cannot kill you.”

Haruka’s grip tightened around his own mirror, as Gou’s words sank in.

Gou lifted a fresh mirror from somewhere in her kiln and blew across the reflective surface, before she looked at Haruka again, flames and glass shards reflecting in the deep red of her eyes. “Only one god can,” she continued softly.

At that moment, Haruka felt a strong tremor carry across the water, heralding the presence of another powerful being.

Haruka didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, but he did all the same, and found himself looking into the eyes of the god who had taken Makoto from him.

Rin was so different now. Haruka almost had to shield his eyes with how brilliant the god of death had become. Once a creature of darkness and ruin, everything about Rin now _glowed_ , from his magnificent crimson tail that teemed with all life in the ocean, to the souls emblazoned like trails of starlight on his skin.

“You’d give up your immortality for a dead human?” Rin asked. His voice held no malice or condescension despite the harshness of his words.

Haru raised his chin, unyielding. “I want that soul. No matter what it takes.”

Rin nodded as if he was expecting this, and it made Haruka wonder just when he had become so transparent. “If you choose this, know that you can no longer live in the ocean,” said Rin. “Water will live in you but it can kill you if you try to breathe it. Instead, you will breathe air and walk on land. You will have a physical body, one that feels hunger and thirst, disease and decay. And you will die again. Is that what you want?”

Haruka’s mind was made. “It is what I want if it means seeing Makoto again,” he answered.

Rin was silent for a moment as he studied Haruka and his unflinching countenance, the single-minded focus that radiated out of his very being. Haruka briefly wondered if Rin was also judging him for this unorthodox course of action, if he was thinking that Haruka was a fool for giving up everything so easily, all for the sake of someone who had long since passed away.

Then he remembered that Rin was still the god of death despite his shroud of living scales, and he would not be the one to judge Haruka for his very human desires. After all, among all the gods, it was Rin who knew what it meant to be human. It was with this knowledge that he'd know just how heavy the weight of Haruka's will was, and how he would stop at nothing to get this one thing.

After a long while, Rin smiled. It was a sad smile, wistful and soft; a smile Haruka had never imagined would ever grace the god of death’s face. “I’ve seen humans die for love so many times,” he said, as he swam closer to Haruka. “I never imagined I’d see a god doing the same.”

“This is the last bargain I will ever ask of you Rin.” The plea came to Haruka swiftly, naturally, like swimming. It was only to be expected. He repeated this every year for the past millennium after all. "So please.” He bowed his head, a final act of deference. “Kill me."

Rin looked at Haruka as he swung his scythe off his shoulders and held it in both hands, the arching wing of the blade turned outward. Haruka held himself still, as Rin averted his gaze towards his weapon, running his sharp nails along the smooth curve of the edge, as if the sight of it would help his decision. Haruka couldn't blame him. What Haruka was asking for required an equal sacrifice on Rin’s end, one that he was not sure Rin was willing to give. "If I kill you," Rin started slowly as he dragged his gaze up to meet Haruka's. "I’ll revoke my dominion in turn."

Haruka already knew this of course. He supposed this was how fate worked— he had already given Rin everything _except_ the ocean. The next course of action was clear as day. “Then I’d like to offer you the honour of taking my place instead.”

Even without looking at the mirror, Haruka could tell that Gou was sporting a small smile, one that held the knowledge that things would turn out the way they were expected to.

“Equivalent exchange,” Haruka continued in a feverish whisper. “Those are your rules Rin, and I will abide by them. So I offer you my domain, if you would give up yours.”

The longing in Rin’s eyes was impossible to miss, yet he kept his composure when he answered. “That would take care of your immortality. But what will you give me for the mortal life you seek?”

Haruka was ready for this too. He touched the blue-green scale strung around his neck and removed it. “This is the last of my creatures,” he said, and held it out to Rin. “It was created after Makoto died.”

Rin reached out and took the scale. It didn’t turn red at his touch like the others; instead, it glimmered, like a supernova bursting from within the palm of his hand, shimmering until it turned pure white. Rin closed his eyes and Haruka knew that Rin was feeling the immediate connection, for the last creature Haruka surrendered to him was a magnificent beast, an air breather—bigger than a dolphin, smaller than a whale, gentle and playful but imbued with a hidden power, a ferocity waiting to be tapped.

When Rin opened his eyes again, he was smiling. “What do you call this one?”

“Orca.”

“How utterly creative of you,” Rin said with a droll smirk.

Haruka scowled. “You name it then.”

Rin looked startled. It occurred to Haruka then, that this was probably because Rin’s status had never provided him an opportunity to name anything, to be part of the process that marked ownership. Haruka was glad that he was able to give Rin this, for it became his right the moment he accepted Haruka’s bargain.

“ _Ornicus_ ,” Rin decided excitedly after some time. “ _Ornicus Orca_.”

“I surmised as much,” said Haruka with a faint knowing smile. “Now that it’s yours, I need you to teach it.”

“Teach it what?”

“It needs to survive without me,” Haruka answered. “It needs to be able to hunt and eat. So teach it to kill. You are the best authority on the subject.”

Rin tilted his head, brow furrowed, looking confused. “You know I won’t be the god of death after this.”

“Doesn’t mean you will forget how to be.”

Rin considered this before nodding in understanding. “That’s true.” He ran a thumb along his new scale, admiring its purity. “Still, I won’t teach it to kill,” he said. His grin was bright and sincere; full of the kind of happiness he had never known his whole existence until now. He held the scale to his chest and met Haruka’s gaze. 

“I will teach it to _live_.”

 

~~~

 

Rin slung the new scale around his neck and decided that he would graft it on his chest, on the left, where a human heart ought to be, to serve as a reminder that on this day, the impossible was made real because of the sheer force of will of a human soul. This would be his final act as a god of death.

“Are you sure this is what you want Haruka?” he asked once more, knowing the question was useless. “There is no turning back.”

Haruka met his gaze evenly. “I want to see Makoto again."

Rin shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Very well.” He approached Haruka slowly, readying his scythe. The line of Haruka’s shoulders was straight, fearlessly accepting the fate he decided for himself. Even with all his beautiful scales gone, Haruka _shone._

“You will forget your own memories,” Rin told him. “But I will remember his name. And I can never forget yours.”

For the first time in long while, Haruka smiled again, a small, grateful one, but a smile nonetheless. “Thank you, Rin.”

As Haruka readied himself for death, Rin heard the familiar melancholic melody of the ocean song. Even with all his creatures severed from his grasp, the ocean still mourned Haruka, and it only took one look at Haruka’s face to know the he felt at peace.

And so, Rin took one last look at the god who gave up the ocean, and remembered the boy who gave up the certainty of eternal happiness, just for the chance to find each other again.

It left a bittersweet taste at the back of his tongue, and yet when he lifted his scythe, nothing in the world ever felt so right.

“Goodbye, Haruka,” he said softly, and swung his scythe down.

 

~~~

 

From a distance, two mirrors shattered at the same time.

 

~~

 

The last thing that Rin had ever wondered about was how it would feel like to die.

He could feel his body folding in on itself, could feel the memories of a million souls echoing in his head, emotions running wild in their wake: hatred and love, regret and hope, anger and joy, pain and pleasure. He felt like he was suspended, the water flowing within him, through him, becoming _one with him_ , before light flashed behind his eyelids one last time and everything fell into darkness.

When he woke up, Gou was looking at him from beyond a hand-sized mirror suspended in the water.

“You’re free,” was all she said.

Blinking himself to full consciousness, Rin reached up and touched his face, his new body. Webbed hands, long spindly fingers, his powerful tail, the ocean in his heart. He looked down, his scales glowing red, pulsing with all the life of the ocean, his tail fins no longer sharp like a scythe, but long and flowing like the water he now commanded. His ears were no longer human shaped, shimmering orange webbing making them pierce through the veil of his red hair. When he waved his hand, the water followed his will. When he sighed, the ocean rippled and kissed the shores.

Rin stretched his hand forward, feeling weightless, not quite grasping this new body and new power yet. “A thousand years ago, when you said that change was coming...” he started carefully, his voice only trembling a little as he looked into the mirror. “You were talking about…”

Gou was smiling, but she looked like she was about to cry, if such a thing was possible. “You, Rin,” she answered. “It has always been you.”

 

~~~

 

The humans said dying was painful.

But Haruka did not feel pain. He didn’t feel anything; death as a state was absolute emptiness. If it was painful, Haruka would never know. He already killed Makoto with his own two hands. Nothing could hurt him after that.

The last thing Haruka saw was a hand—a human hand, reaching out to him. The water then turned from black, to cool blue, to a familiar green he had seen every day for more than a thousand years. From the embrace of nothingness, he felt warmth; he felt _happiness._  

At that moment, his whole world turned to a light so pure and blinding, the sun would be but a pale imitation of it.

He heard his name, murmured in the voice Haruka longed to hear for years, the voice that sounded like summer tides gently embracing the shore, the voice of the human Haruka gave up his everything for.

“Haruka.”

Haruka blinked and saw him then. Makoto. _His_ Makoto. His face, his eyes, his gentle smile and those strong arms that had always cradled him, held him.

He’s holding his hand out now, reaching for Haruka, as if to say: “I found you.”

 Haruka smiled back and took it.

 

~~~

 

The new god of the ocean rested on his new throne. There was no change in the ocean god’s palace, except for a large mirror built beside the throne, a gateway to the goddess of fate’s realm. He may have left that position, but he would never forget. Nature abhorred a power vacuum however, and it was not long before a new god was appointed in his place.

“How’s Sousuke doing with his new appointment?”

“Very well,” Gou replied. “He takes a lot after you.” His sister looked the same as ever, though she was less tired, and she actually smiled sometimes, openly and freely. What happened to Haruka, Makoto and Rin, had given Gou the comfort of knowing that fate need not be completely manipulated by her command; that it can be unpredictable, like the wind, like the human heart. It had changed her as well, which is another thing Rin was grateful to Haruka and Makoto for.

Rin closed his eyes, feeling the power of the ocean life with every cell in his body, almost making him heady. “It was a humbling experience.”

“How so?”

Rin touched the white scale grafted on his chest. “When I took Makoto’s memories, I felt it. What Haruka had for a thousand years. It was nothing like I’ve ever felt before.”

“And that is?”

“The feeling that the rest of the world could fall apart and it wouldn’t matter because you have the one thing that make things beautiful just by existing.” Rin leaned back on his new throne and opened his eyes again. “Humans have so much of it and share it so freely. Survive it when it goes away. It makes me wonder, if maybe it’s Haruka who had it right all along.”

“Who knows, brother?” Gou said, as she approached her kiln. “Perhaps the time will come when our reign will no longer matter. Death and life and fate will move on, regardless of who’s handling the strings. And as Haruka’s mortal had proven, souls can find their own way home.”

Rin smiled softly. In Gou’s hands, two new mirrors lay, waiting for the souls to give them their reflective surface.

“One day,” he said, as he watched the orca Haruka entrusted to him playing with a dolphin beneath the waves.

Up on the surface, the ocean glinted gold beneath the rising sun. All was calm.

 

***

 

_“I saw you swimming,” the boy says as he grasps Haru’s hand. “You swim very beautifully.”_

_The boy is smiling gently at him, his face shining with admiration, the barest hint of a blush dappled on his cheeks. When he pulls Haru out of the water, it’s as if Haru himself is weightless, like it is the easiest thing in the world to lift him up._

_“My name is Tachibana Makoto,” he continues, not waiting for Haru to respond. His fingers start to slip away from Haru’s but Haru tightens his grip, unwilling to let go yet. His fingers are trembling but he can’t help feeling that he’s found something he’s been searching for since forever._

_The boy, Makoto, just smiles wider, delighted by Haru’s response, and steps closer, squeezing Haru’s hand. “And you are?”_

_Haru smiles back. “Nanase Haruka,” he replies, and embraces the air he breathes for the first time._

 

~fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Massive A/N Notes:**
> 
> This is me taking the common MakoHaru headcanon of Haru giving up the ocean for Makoto to literally god-tier level because I’m such a huge sap for this ship and especially for Haru loving Makoto so fiercely and deeply. ♥ 
> 
> The orca’s final scale colour is white because it was created by Makoto and Haru, and will be nurtured by Rin. White is supposed to be the presence of all colours and those three shmucks cover the RGB spectrum so… /dork
> 
> The scientific name of the Killer Whale is _Ornicus orca._ Ornicus means “belonging to the realms of the dead” and Orca means “Like a whale.” So Rin was actually being a sentimental floof with his choice of nomenclature while Haru was being… lazy.
> 
> Anyway, this marks the end of this tale; thank you to everyone who commented and cheered me on! I also have massive notes about the world-building in this fic, but I shan’t bore you with it here; if for some reason, you actually want to hear about them, drop me an [ask](http://gestahlt.tumblr.com/ask) and I’ll be happy to explain 
> 
> **FANART FOR THIS FIC:**
> 
> * the outrageously talented [ buttleronduty](http://buttleronduty.tumblr.com) drew fanart of Deathgod!Rin and Ocean!God Rin [here](http://gestahlt.tumblr.com/post/112141861440/buttleronduty-death-and-rebirth)
> 
> * Full colour illustration of Ocean God!Haru and Merman!Makoto by the amazing [natsui](http://natsui.tumblr.com) is [here](http://gestahlt.tumblr.com/post/111763075650/what-is-that-water-leaking-out-of-your-eyes-oh) (already linked in Chapter 6, but adding it here again for consolidation purposes)


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